Black Wolf: Fortuna
by Kat Wylder
Summary: Turning her sights to her new life and love, Randi sets out with Fred in search of bigger contracts and bigger pay days. Their small unit is moving up in the world, but their ambitions may net more than they bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Running her fingers back through her hair lightly, Randi smiled in contentment. That was a rather novel state for her, and one she was gladly growing to accept. She glanced down the corridor as her partner, and more recently significant other, Fred Acosta followed. He fumbled through his jacket pockets to find the key to their flat, and gave her an apologetic look when he finally located it. She just smiled and stepped aside from the door.

He had been taking things slowly in their relationship over the past few weeks. Initially, she had expected that they would move in together much sooner than this. She had to remind herself though, that her attitudes probably seemed as fast to him as his seemed slow. Physical intimacy was very much a part of Clan society, but emotional intimacy was scarce. As a decidedly martial people, most Clans placed little value on love, and some actively discouraged it. While Randi had grown accustomed to the concept of romance over her years in the InnerSphere, actually participating in it was a rather different experience. Slowly, though, she was adjusting. She was pleased that they were going to share a flat now, yet she found that it wasn't that important to her overall. She did not mind waiting on Fred, just so long as she knew that he cared about her.

At the moment, though, she was even more pleased to be turning in and getting off her feet. The whole day had been like one long business trip, spent ensuring that the 'Mechs were unloaded from the DropShip, the flat was in order, and all of the unit's transactions had been accepted. It was important to get their affairs now, so that they could start pursuing new employment. An extension of their contract with Quikscell had kept them on Oliver into July, but the pay was decent. The ache of working for that company had also diminished rapidly without any antagonists present, and the rest of their time had been spent on uneventful convoy duty. Now on Castor, it looked as though they would finally have enough money to hire on the additional personnel needed to bring unit up to a full lance.

Fred smiled as he walked up beside her and unlocked the door. "Home sweet home," he said, allowing her to go ahead, "at least for a couple weeks, anyway."

"Good enough for me." She smiled back and walked inside, pulling her tank top off over her head, as he closed the door behind them. She tossed it onto the couch in exchange for the tee shirt she wore to sleep, glad to be getting into something more comfortable.

"Ah—whoa!" Fred startled, as he turned towards her. "Sorry! I, uh, I didn't realize you were— I'll, um, go out," he said, whirling back towards the door.

"Why?" She gave him a quizzical look as she pulled on her tee-shirt.

"Pri..va...cy?" He glanced back over his shoulder, cautiously. Seeing that she was confused and not angry, he relaxed. "You, uh, don't mind?"

"Mind what? You seeing me naked?" She shook her head as she walked into the next room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I do not see why you think I would. Would you care if I saw you naked?"

"No," he said flatly, then looked somewhat irritated with himself for his prior reaction. "Right. Of course you wouldn't mind, being a Clanner..."

"Former Clanner," she corrected.

He sat down next to her as she pulled off her boots and socks. "Sorry, then. I guess I'm still not quite sure what your boundaries are. The culture you grew up in is...rather different from mine," he said. Fred stroked through her hair lightly. "Heh, I just don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, even by accident."

She drew her feet up onto the bed, draping her arms over her knees, and gave him a smile in return. "Well, rest assured, that is not one."

He nodded and began taking off his own boots. "I tell you what, I am _so_ happy to have left that ice ball behind," he said, stifling a yawn. "No more ice, snow, sleet or slush. And no more Quikscell. Bleh!"

It wasn't his smoothest attempt to change a topic, but she indulged him. "Ah, Oliver was not too bad. Though Castor is a bit more pleasant, I'll grant you that." She chuckled a little, pulling back the covers on her side of the bed, and sliding under the sheets.

"Only a bit?" He chuckled, then nodded again. "Right, cold weather doesn't bother you, either."

She shrugged and smirked. "I never did mind the cold on Strana Mechty—just the company."

"Ah, speaking of company, I got some replies to the advert I posted on Merc-Net. A few of them look rather promising." He turned and handed her a folder from the nearby desk, before pulling his shirt off over his head.

"It seems that the WoB Protectorate has been putting a lot of people out of business lately," she said. Nearly half of all the applicants had made a note in their profiles that they were vehemently opposed to working with or for the Word of Blake. "Nuking Outreach certainly has not helped their PR, either."

Fred nodded in agreement. "It's a good thing none of them _are_ Wobbies. They're almost as bad as the Davions."

"I assume that all the Federated Suns applicants are going into the 'no' pile, then," Randi said, setting some of the pages aside.

"More like 'burn' pile," he muttered. "See any you like?"

"Hm...There are a few with their own 'Mechs. Those are always worth a closer look. Considering that we have some empty cockpits, though, it might be better to spring for dispossessed veterans than green MechWarriors with a ride."

He leaned over and took some of the applications from the folder, arching his eyebrows as he examined the first one. "We also need to make sure they're in our price range," he said setting that application in the 'no' pile. Looking thoughtful for a moment, he added, "Also, that they won't beat up our techs. Harrison is getting old." He chuckled.

"That didn't stop him from bloodying a Clanner half his age..." She continued scanning the applications. "Hm, these look like 'maybes'..."

"'Maybes'?" He looked over at her inquisitively.

Randi handed him one of the sheets. "Any problem with Free Worlders?"

"Nah," he replied after a moment's thought, as continued looking over the applications, stroking his goatee in thought.

"Well, have you seen any others that look worthwhile?"

"Yeah, this sounds good. Goes by Hank...owns a custom _Quickdraw_. Sure, it's no _Archer_, but that's still some decent firepower. And Harrison and Ned could use a new toy to play with," he chuckled to himself. "Looks like he actually has some field experience, too."

"Definitely sounds like a winner."

"Sure does," He turned a page, then quickly flipped to another, "Let's see this one. Ah, a veteran, owns the family _Zeus_—" Fred cut himself off suddenly and tossed the page into the 'no' pile dismissively.

"Another FedSunner?" she asked, looking up from the page she was reading.

"Eh... An IS purist..."

She merely replied with a disaffected "Ah." Randi then set the folder and its remaining contents on the nightstand, stretched briefly, and laid back on her pillow. "I think we have some good possibilities here, overall."

"We definitely do." He smiled at her and petted over her thigh affectionately. "Do you feel comfortable moving in with me and that?"

"I am," she replied, smiling, then gave him a sort of wistful look. "I just wish you were, too."

"Heh," he looked a little sheepish, as he scooted up next to her. "It's somethin' I have to get used to, still... I suppose I'm just a bit concerned."

"About?"

He raked a hand back through his hair and sighed. "I have to admit something, Randi. My last relationship... didn't go over so well, and I got burned pretty bad. I've been over-cautious since then, I guess." He glanced back at her and cracked a smile. "But things are much different, now—better."

Randi's felt a little confused, but tried to look sympathetic. In a somewhat similar way, she could relate. She remembered how much it had hurt when Maro turned against her, and he had merely been a friend. Deciding that it was best not to ask the details, she merely hoped that whatever pain Fred had experienced was healed or healing. She put her hand on his lightly and smiled again, reassuringly. "I'm glad."

He nodded and yawned. "It's gotten late... We can finish sifting through these later," he said picking up the rest of the papers and depositing them on his desk. He stood, stripped to his boxers, and tossed his jeans over the desk chair, before slipping under the covers next to her. "Sweet dreams," he murmured, closing his eyes and draping one arm over her side lightly.

She smiled softly and tapped the nightstand lamp, cloaking the room in a gentle shadow. "Sweet dreams."

* * * * *

The sprawling bazaars of Castor were certainly an impressive sight. Multi-storied buildings with broad, open patios on each level lined both sides of the street. Down on the ground, smaller shops, kiosks, and stalls clustered together like an architectural jigsaw puzzle. The taller complexes were modern and sophisticated, but the individual stores had the most character.

Randi looked around interestedly as she followed after Fred, keeping the clipboard she had brought folded close to her chest. The marketplace was far larger than she had realized during their first trip to this planet. As they walked on, the newer buildings slowly gave way to more dated architecture. Fred had suggested that they hold the interviews in the old quarter, surmising that their applicants might be more comfortable in a pub than a touristy food court.

"Here we are," he announced, as they stopped at their destination. "The Golden Gulon."

"What the hell is a _gulon?_" she puzzled, as Fred opened the door, gesturing for her to go ahead.

However confusing the name might have been, the interior of the place was most inviting. It was very well-kept, but the mild lighting and wood furniture gave the pub a relaxed and casual air, unlike the sterile-looking restaurants in the new quarter. The booths, too, looked quite comfortable.

She looked back at Fred. "I will go get the drinks while you find a seat for us."

"Deal," he agreed, and chuckled as he slipped into the booth right next to them.

After a quick trip to the bar, she slid in beside Fred, with a beer for each of them, and the clipboard tucked under her arm. "The first applicants should start arriving soon. Are you ready?"

"I think so. We've narrowed it down to the ones that looked good on paper." He nodded graciously as he accepted the drink, and took a sip. "Who's first?"

"Ah..." She opened the first file and handed it to him. "Hektor Sarris. He's one of the more experienced applicants."

"That's good, we could use experience. Does he have a 'Mech?"

"No. Dispossessed. He used to pilot a heavy, though."

"He'd probably be at home in the _Dragon_ then," He took another sip and looked around somewhat impatiently.

An man of medium height and a sturdy build, with short-cropped hair appeared at the door of the bar shortly. He adjusted his worn jacket as he stepped inside and kicked some of the dust off his shoes, as looked around for a moment. Spotting the two mercenaries, he approached their table. "You guys with the Vigilante Guard?"

"Certainly are. And you are Hektor Sarris?" Fred asked, as he stood, offering to his hand.

The man nodded and shook Fred's hand with a firm grip, then takes a seat across from them. As he did so, Randi noticed that a severe burn scar ran across the man's hand, over his wrist, and up his arm under the sleeve of his jacket. The left side of his jaw had some similar scars, though they were more faint.

"Alright," Fred continued, getting right to the point. "Why do you want to join the Vigilante Guard?"

"I'm a MechWarrior," he replied simply. "It's all I know. Fortunately, I'm good at it, too."

"And yet you don't have a 'Mech..." Randi said evenly.

Sarris cast her a scathing glare. Being dispossessed seemed to have gotten under his skin quite badly, as it did with most. "That has nothing to do with _my_ skills. It was those thrice-damned Blakists."

Fred shook his head slightly. "Yeah, those damn Blakists... Well, we do have a 'Mech without a pilot, and we could stand to have an experienced soul at the controls"

"Really, now?" The applicant seemed to perk up a bit. "What is it?"

"It's a _Dragon_ we recently obtained from our last contract. Do you think you can pilot it, and do you think you can follow my commands?" So far, Fred's attitude seemed positive towards the man. Sarris was enthusiastic, and seemed to possess the skills they wanted. She wondered, now, how he felt about the Clans.

Again, Sarris smiled. "Yeah, a _Dragon_ sounds real nice." He added,"And yeah, I can take orders. As long as they aren't bone-head stupid or pro-Blakist."

"I can assure you we're not pro-Blakist. In fact, we're not even amateur Blakist," Fred quipped.

"Everything seems in order, is there anything else we should know?" Randi asked, turning things back to business.

"That I'm ready to hunt down those WoB sonsuvbitches," Sarris replied with a somewhat vengeful smile.

"Ah, there must be some confusion," she said, "we're staying away from WoB territory."

The man seemed dismayed, "Staying away? What are you, a coward? Are you working for them under the table or something?"

"No—"

"Then why aren't you going after them? They're a threat to all mercenaries! Just look what they did to the Dragoons!"

Fred shook his head, "Look, here at the Vigilante Guard, rule number one is to _not_ die. Rule number two is that if you're absolutely determined to die, that you do it much, much later in your life or at least after you've finished your last two weeks." He shook his head. "We don't even have a full lance, as it stands. There's no way we're charging off to fight the Word of Blake."

"Fine," the man stood up and leaned forward, glowering. "I couldn't work for a cowardly Blake-sympathizer, anyway."

Fred matched his stare, the corners of his mouth turning to a frown, "And we couldn't hire someone that can't pilot a 'Mech."

Sarris shot a glare at Fred and got up from the booth quickly. He gave a harumph, muttered something about the thrice-damned Blakists under his breath, and stalked out of the bar.

"That could have gone better..." Randi mused. _'I guess his attitude toward Clanners is irrelevant, now...'_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's notes: Thanks much to everyone who's reviewed so far. I'm quite glad to finally have this story underway, and I'm pleased to see that all of you are, too. This next chapter is a bit of a talky one, but the pace will pick up soon enough._

Chapter 2

Fred gave a sigh, rubbing his forehead impatiently, "How many applicants did we have to reject? These guys are terrible. I'm willing to bet the next guy learned to pilot a 'Mech growing up way out in the boondocks of space."

"That would be exactly what we need—a combine driver," Randi said sarcastically as she checked the clipboard again. By this time, the rest of their applicants had gathered at the bar; finding them had simply become a matter of calling their names. "Willems?"

A short man, auburn-haired and middle-aged, approached them at the mention. "'Allo, I'm Brent Willems. You're the guys looking for a pilot?"

"That's correct."

Fred nodded and offered his hand, "The Vigilante Guard." He sat back down and returned to his beer, somewhat resigned by this time.

Willems nodded. "So, you have a 'Mech for me?"

"Possibly," Randi said. "Please, tell us a bit about yourself, first."

He smirked. "I thought you wouldn't ask. I was a member of Kasey's Killers, I'm sure you've heard of them."

She shot a quick glance at her partner. "Have we heard of them?"

Fred shook his head. "Never heard of them."

Willems looked distraught. "Never heard of them? They fought during the Free Worlds civil war."

"Which one?" Fred asked, rolling his eyes. "The Free Worlds is _always_ having a civil war. No wonder we haven't heard of them."

"What did you do during your time with Cassie's Killers?" asked Randi.

"Eh, that's _Kasey's_ Killers..." Willems said. "We did a lot of important things. Defending military interests against enemy attack, protecting factories from pirate threats, recon... Um, I'm qualified in light and medium 'Mechs." The man tried his best to sound impressive.

Randi skimmed over Willems file, largely ignoring what the man actually said, and turned to the second page. "Your Merc-Net profile says you were fired ."

"Hey, let me tell you first thing: _I_ am the victim here," Willems said quickly.

Randi merely blinked.

"There were a couple of small incidents that occurred on one of our defense contracts at a factory. Small stuff, really," he repeated, a deep set anger slowly boiling, "and those SOBs fired me for it."

"What exactly was the nature of these... incidents?"

"They busted me for trying to make a little extra money in my off hours. Would you blame a man for selling off some spare parts? You don't make anything when you're just moving from garrison to garrison, unless you can find a way to supplement your income."

She frowned deeply. "So... you were fired for stealing?"

"It wasn't stealing," Willems insisted. "It just was a small side business dealing in, uh, surplus materials. But I won't have to do that, now that you will hire me." He tried giving a genuine smile. "I'm no criminal."

She peered down at the file again. "That's not what your arrest record says."

He glared, "Don't you get it? You're a merc, I'm a merc. We only look out for number one."

Fred coughed. "We're the Vigilante Guard, not Jacob's Juggernauts. If you're looking to loot and plunder, join them. Or better yet—become a pirate. We're not hiring criminals."

With a shrug, Randi tossed Willems' file into the trash bin by their table.

Willems looked visibly bereft as he stood up, defeated, and sulked out of the bar. Fred took a sip from his beer, as he watched the man leave. "At least he didn't leave screaming and cussing like that anti-Blake nut, earlier."

"True," Randi said, slumping back in the booth a little, "but I still would not trust him. That last guy—Fry—doesn't seem like a good choice, either. There was something really... _off_ about him. Like he had some kind of brain damage."

"What? I liked him. He had spirit. Something about him seemed kinna familiar, too, but I can't put my finger on it..."

"I would prefer to have someone who is a little more alert watching our six." She looked thoughtful. "Akbar seemed like the watchful type. His starting fee was a bit outside our price range, though.."

Fred nodded in agreement.

"What about Valentine? She seemed to have good credentials."

"She looked like a good pilot, but I think she was hiding something Seemed kind of self-absorbed... She also put that expensive drink of hers on our tab," he grunted.

Randi grabbed their bill to double check and glared at it. "Hmph... Well, we are almost finished. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, considering that we have not found anyone worth hiring, yet.

He nodded and sighed. "Some kid fresh out of training would be better than most of those guys. And what about that guy with half a _Jagermech_, expecting us to fix it for him? I'm starting to regret these interviews, and the background checks don't seem to be helping," he moped. "Heh, I guess I used up all my hiring luck when I met you." He gave Randi a smile and put a hand on her thigh affectionately.

She returned the smile briefly, then glanced at her clipboard and scribbled a quick tally into the margin. "So far, we have interviewed nine applicants, including Willems. In total, three were asking salaries outside of our planned range, five were dispossessed, and one was a FedSunner." She looked over to see Fred cringe at the last listing. "We have three applicants left to interview, and the next one should be here shortly."

"Eh, you know what they say, tenth one's the charm." He chuckled to himself.

"Mm-hm..." She was starting to feel a bit a little skeptical, by now that they would find any worthwhile pilots. _'We may just have to settle for the best of the worst...'_ she thought to herself, then leaned out of the booth a little and called, "Huang?"

A young man looking to be still in his late teens walked up and slid into the side of the booth across from Fred and Randi. His clothes were simple and his straight, dark hair was pulled back in a braid that ended mid-back. He seemed confident, perhaps bordering on smug, and extended a hand to shake. "Hello."

Randi merely arched her eyebrows, and read off the clipboard, "Nikolai Lawrence Huang. Correct?"

"Yes," the young man replied.

Fred took his hand and shook it firmly. Randi could tell that he was trying to test their applicant's grip. Huang winced a little at the unexpected pressure and withdrew his hand.

"Fernando Acosta of the Vigilante Guard. What brings you here, Nikolai?" Fred smiled, but seemed to have a faintly bemused look on his face.

"Well, I saw an advert that you were hiring, and I feel like I'm ready to get started in the mercenary business," he replied confidently.

"I see. Do you have any experience piloting a 'Mech? Or are you interested in becoming our new chef?"

At first Huang looked as though he took the remark seriously, then managed a half-chuckle. "I want to be a MechWarrior, of course. I haven't been on active duty before, of course, but I have a lot of training hours."

Randi handed the clipboard to Fred with a bit of a sigh. Glancing up at him, she muttered, "I was hoping for a chef."

He gave her a brief smirk, then returned to the applicant. "Well, looks you have your training in order. And on that note, I have another question for you. Have you ever shot at or otherwise attempted violence upon your employer?"

"No." Huang looked somewhat taken aback.

"Have _you_ ever been shot at?"

"In a 'Mech...?"

"In, out, I just need to know how you handle under pressure." Then under his breath, Fred mumbled, "And if you can take a bullet to the head..."

"Well, of course I've been shot at _in_ a 'Mech..."

"Alright, alright. Now, do you have a 'Mech?"

"No, I don't."

"I see. What other skills do you have?"

Huang frowned a little, apparently still pondering Fred's earlier question in the back of his mind, but answered, regardless. "I can do basic field repairs and maintenance, and I'm pretty good with sensor equipment..."

Ignoring this information, Randi leaned over whispered to her partner, "His desired base pay is listed at 14,000 C-Bills _less_ than anyone else, so far."

Fred raised an eyebrow at this fact, and cut Huang off before he could continue further. "Why'd you say you want to be a merc?"

"Well... I've always wanted to be a MechWarrior. I never wanted to fight for any of the Houses, though. I want to make my own way, you know?"

"I can't guarantee that you won't be fighting on the side of a House, but you won't have to die for their honor. Just mine," Fred quipped.

Again, Huang looked somewhat little unsure as to whether his potential employer was joking. "I can deal with that," he said, after a short pause.

Fred chuckled. "A little humor there, eh?" He glanced at Randi and, receiving an affirmative nod, continued. "Anyhow, it sounds like you'll make a fine addition—so long as you don't plan on dying while you're working for me."

The young man looked pleased, but also as though he was trying to contain his excitement somewhat. "Great! When do I start?"

"First you have to do the paperwork." Randi slid the contract papers over to him. "Just sign on the dotted lines. That'll be all for now, though. You can go ahead and take a seat while we continue the interviews."

Huang nodded, took the papers, and relocated to an empty table a little further from them.

Fred leaned over to Randi, and frowned a bit. "Well, the kid certainly has spirit," he said. "I just can't help but wonder why a pilot with so many hours is asking for so little."

"Perhaps he did not think he could get hired for a first tour of duty without taking a low salary. He seems rather young, to me... His resume does say that he is eighteen years old, though," she mused.

"Hm. Guess he looks eighteen-ish. Some people look younger than they are, some look older. Me, I had this goatee when I was fourteen. Well, not quite like this..."

"Right..." She took a sip of her drink and set Huang's file aside, ready to keep things moving. "Morgan?"

"Hey!" A thin and well groomed man approached their table eagerly. "You can call me Jack," he said, offering his hand to Randi, as he took a seat.

Before she could respond, Fred shook the man's hand instead. "Nice to meet you. I'm Fernando Acosta, CO of the Vigilante Guard, and this is my partner, Randi Greene. She'll be conducting the interview."

She nodded, checking over his file quickly to assure herself that this man had no prior convictions, then looked back at him. He struck her as somewhat non-athletic, verging on scrawny, but she decided to withhold her judgement on that matter for the present. "Tell me a bit about your position in your former unit."

"I was a captain; my unit consisted of heavies and assaults. All the guys there were great. Definitely not like some of the applicants I've seen walk out of here. Do you think I should invite them to join your unit?"

"Ah, I do not think that will be necessary," she replied. "Perhaps you should focus on your own interview first."

He nodded and smiled. "Alright, maybe later then. So, what else can I answer for you?"

"How many years of field experience have you had?"

"Ten years, if you count the training I had. I decided to become a MechWarrior so I could travel and not be tied down. You know how that is, right? Just have to keep moving. It's why I hate garrison duty. Sure, it's nice if you can go into town and explore and meet the locals. You know?" He smiled and looked at them both. Fred nodded back and smiled, clearly trying to hide his boredom with their applicant's ramblings.

"So, you have issues with garrison duty?" Randi asked.

"Well, only if it's for a long time and it's isolated."

She glanced over at Fred to check his reaction. He seemed somewhat surprised by Morgan's short answer, but overall unimpressed.

"Do you have any particular skills that might be helpful?" she continued.

"Well, I'm a great leader, but I guess you already have one of those," he nods towards Fred, "I'm also excellent at quick strikes and raiding."

"Since you've mentioned leadership, I have a question for you..."

"Yes? Please go ahead." He smiled, probably waiting for an easy question.

"Your previous unit consisted of a single company, correct?"

"It did, and a fine one at that."

"That would mean then, that there was only room enough for one 'captain.' If that was you, what did your CO do?"

His expression faltered for a moment, "My CO... Well... Well, you know, a mercenary unit needs someone to—to balance the books, um, manage repairs, and setup contracts." He then turned to Fred. "Isn't that right?"

Fred smirked. "It is. Of course, we also do a lot of the _fighting."_

"I think we're done here, Captain Morgan," Randi said dryly.

Fred nodded and shook the man's hand. "It was nice meeting you, but it seems that we simply don't have a position open for a man of your expertise."

"Wha— You mean I'm overqualified?"

"You could say that," Randi replied. _'_I_ certainly would not, though.'_

Foiled, Morgan slowly made his way out of his seat. "Right... Well... If a position opens up, you know how to contact me." He managed a smile and slight bow, before disappearing.

"Ugh," Randi muttered. "Well, one more left to go."

Fred chuckled lightly. "Quick strikes and raiding in assault 'Mechs? You have to admit, he was amusing once you got past the annoying, won't-shut-up part of him. Anyway, we have one pilot. Are you sure you want to bother with the last one?

She looked down at the clipboard, with one file left, and finished the remainder of her beer at once. "Yep."

"Good idea," he agreed, drinking the rest of his beer, as well. "Let's get this over with."

"Well, I guess I'll call the next applicant. Freeman?"

A red-headed young woman, looking somewhere near Randi's age and just a bit shorter walked over to them. The woman was hardly a bodybuilder, but the tank top she wore showed that she had better biceps than some of the men they had interviewed. She gave them a courteous nod and smiled pleasantly as she sat down across from them.  
Randi looked up at the woman, then down to the clipboard, and back. "You're... _Hank_ Freeman?"

"Oh, um, it's Henrietta, actually," she replied, blushing a little, "but everyone just calls me Hank."

Fred looked a little perplexed, but then extended his hand. "Hello, Henrietta. You're looking for a job as a mercenary?"

She shook his hand, warmly, and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm a vet but I've been out of work for about six months, and I really want to get back to it."

"Well, that's good to hear. How much experience do you have?"

"I served two years with the Savannah Irregulars, until the company went bankrupt last year. If you'd like a reference, I can put you in touch with the XO."

He nodded. "That's alright. Did you happen to keep your old 'Mech?"

Freeman chuckled a little. "Wouldn't part with it. It's a modified _Quickdraw_ 4-G."

"I know how that is," he replied, chuckling with her. "How long have you been piloting it? And when you say modified, in what way?"

"Hm, I can't give you an estimate in _hours_, but I started learning to pilot it about five years ago," she said, looking thoughtful. "The modifications aren't too extensive. My father and I swapped out the old single heat sinks for new DHSes, added a half ton more armor, and AMS."  
"Alright, it sounds like you enjoy living as much as we do." He chuckled again. "So, you have experience, you have a 'Mech, and you have a reference. Is there anything else I should know? Like, you're not trying to kill me? People have this nasty habit of tryin' to do that, ya know?"

"Um, I don't think killing you would be very good for my salary." She looked a little confused.

"That's good to hear."

Randi offered him the clipboard to get a look at Freeman's requested salary. Her starting fee and pay fit squarely into the average for a pilot of her experience, and fortunately, into their budget as well.

"Well, I have to say, things are definitely looking good for you. Just one more question. Do you like pancakes?"

"I suppose so." She looked curious, wondering if it was a trick question.

"Looks like you have a job, Ms. Freeman."

She smiled warmly, looking slightly relieved. "Thank you, sir." She looks back and forth between them. "So, anything else I should know or do before I start?"

Randi looked thoughtful for a moment, then, gave Freeman a perfectly deadpan look. "I'm a Clanner," she said.

The young woman seemed vaguely surprised, but hardly terrified or upset. "Um... Eek?" she ventured, probably suspecting the statement to be another joke or test.

Fred gave a serious nod. "So, if having a fine warrior covering your back with a _Mad_ _Cat_ bothers you, speak now."

"Hm... Not really," Freeman responded, after a moment's thought.

"I think that settles things." Randi handed her a set of contract papers. "Just sign these."

She gave a brief mental sigh. The un-pleasantries of the interview process were all worth it now. "Hank" was the most well-adjusted and lucid person to respond to their offer. If not for this, Randi would have begun to wonder if sanity and competence were mutually exclusive traits in unemployed mercenaries. With a full lance finally coming together, the quality of contracts available to their unit would increase substantially.


	3. Chapter 3

_Notes: Glad everyone got a kick out of the interviews. For those interested, I have artwork featuring the new characters on my devianART account. (There's a link to it from my profile page.) And now, on with the story!  
_

Chapter 3

Randi paused at the top of the stairs, peering through the door. Fred sat at the desk, poring over the contract listings on Merc-Net, just as he had been since morning. He gave a sigh of frustration and rested his chin in his hand.

She stepped through the door and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey." He reached back and petted over her hand. "They're not here yet, are they?"

"No. It is still a little early, yet," she replied.

Fred nodded and rubbed his temples. "That's good. I'd hate to tell them that all we'll be doing is protecting rocks," he said with a sigh. "Pollux, Miaplacidus, Zollikofen... Nothing but mines with little to no facilities."

"Hm." She leaned over his shoulder and typed a quick command on his keyboard. "Have you filtered the listings for lance-sized units?"

"Why would I—? Oh... Right, heh. I was using the old search."

She nodded and smiled, then turned her attention back to the screen. None of the planet names looked familiar to her, except for those that Fred had mentioned already. Most were listed as a Lyran or Free Worlds planets, though a few carried the names of obscure little Chaos March states. Whenever she overheard other mercenaries speak of the Chaos March, their attitudes were very mixed. Those who had never been there wanted to go, and those who had already been there were only too glad to leave. All agreed it was a lucrative business opportunity, but the veterans of those conflicts often found the hardship they bore for their paycheck was too great. The ever increasing presence of the Word of Blake in that region also made her uneasy.

"This looks good." Fred selected one from the list, displaying the contract information. "Wyatt, Bowie Industries. Good facilities, security duty and personnel training. Plus, no escorting LRM carriers in the snow."

"Are they offering any kind of maintenance work?"

"Just wear-and-tear."

Randi nodded. "That should certainly be sufficient for a contract like this," she mused.

He nodded. "Yeah, it'll be boring, but light duty like this would help train Freeman and Huang. Sure, they're qualified, but I'd hate to get into a war and only know how half my lance would hold up."

"That's true. The use of Bowie's facilities would be helpful, too." She frowned a little, surveying the bland landscape outside the hangar doors, where they would practice later today.

"Well, are we agreed, then?"

"Yes," she said, nodding.

Fred nodded and filled out the reply form quickly, then peered down at his watch. "We still have plenty of time before our new comrades arrive. Wanna see how the 'Mechs are?"

She smiled and nodded. "I would like to see what the Techs have done with the _Shadow Cat_."

"I'd like to see if they did anything at all with it," he said, chuckling. It's still missing its arm." He got up and opened the door for her. "After you."

Randi exited the office with Fred close behind her, and stepped onto the catwalk. The long walkway looped around each partition in the hangar, almost ten meters from the floor, hugging the walls behind their 'Mechs. They first passed the _Dragon_ that Prewitt had used to fight them on Oliver. Ultimately, Fred had decided to sell off the _Bushwacker_ and keep the heavier Kuritan chassis as a replacement. It still wore the green, yellow, and purple "dazzle" scheme it had utilized on Solaris. Though the logic was that dazzle broke up the lines of an object, she thought its real use must have been in making opposing pilots too nauseous to fight.

In the next bay stood _Nyx_, again repaired and ready for combat. She smiled and chuckled to herself, remembering how Fred teased her that this "Black Cat" had brought her good luck. After all the scrapes she had survived with the 75-ton OmniMech, she was inclined to agree. Passing into the next bay, the hunched form of Fred's _Hellhound_ loomed. The battered Clan second-liner was missing one of its legs, and had to be held up by a crane. The severed limb was in decent condition, but Akela's attacks had mangled the 'Mech's hip, which made the repair difficult and tedious. One of the _Hellhound's_ arms had been smashed, as well.

Looking back over her shoulder, Randi noticed that Fred was lagging behind. He looked up at his battered 'Mech unhappily. They planned to repair and refit the 'Mech, but finding parts for it had proven difficult. Clan OmniMechs were designed to be versatile and simple to repair; the Clans' non-Omni designs were not always so easy.

The _Shadow Cat_ was last in the hangar. Although it was still armless, the 'Mech did have some hope. Harrison sat atop its flat left torso, using a winch to lower an InnerSphere large laser down to the same plane as the 'Mech's shoulder. Ned stood on a lift below, donning a welding mask.

Harrison looked up from his work and waved them over, with a grin. "Hey, about time you kids showed up. We're almost done here."

"Looks like I lose the bet. How much longer 'til it's ready?"

"Har." The older man rolled his eyes and laid a hand down on the housing of the laser, creating a sturdy-sounding metallic thud. "I'd say about an hour, tops. We've got all the wires and myomers in place," the Tech continued, gesturing to a bundle of white slug-like bands that stretched out from the arm and back into the shoulder mount. "All that's left is for Ned to finish the welding."

"I'm sure I could weld it faster," Fred chuckled.

Ned looked up and shook his head, putting the visor down. "It's not about how fast you do it—it's about _finesse_. A fine machine like this needs just the right touch."

"I thought we already agreed that you're not allowed to weld anything," Harrison quipped, looking back at Fred. "_Ever_."

"What? I thought I was just on welding probation," Fred whimpered.

"Forever," Ned said, returning to his work.

Randi looked over their resilient "_Franken Cat_" admiringly. The technicians' repair was simple but effective. Seeing that there was nothing for her and Fred to do, she nudged his arm lightly. "Should we go wait for our new hires, then?"

Fred glanced at his watch. "Yeah, they should be arriving soon, and it looks like my probation officer won't give me a break." Just as he spoke, a buzzer sounded over the hangar's intercomm. "Well, speak of the devil."

Having apparently decided that the Techs could manage things on their own, Fred turned and trotted back towards the main entrance. Randi followed him this time, along the catwalk and down the stairs to the ground. The buzzer sounded again as they reached the door, their visitor obviously growing impatient.

"Alright, alright, keep your panties on!" Fred grumbled.

From the back of the hangar, they could hear Ned shout, "Who's getting naked?!"

Randi ignored the Tech and slid the door's view plate aside; Nikolai Huang stood outside, looking somewhat concerned. She opened the door.

"This is the Vigilante Guard's place, right?" Huang sounded lost.

"Yes," she replied, stepping back to allow him to enter.

He grinned and stepped into the hangar. "Whoa, this place is bigger than I thought." He looked around eagerly.

"Welcome. I'm glad you like the place. Let me introduce you to the rest of our unit." Fred started to lead him towards the end of the hangar, passing in front of the _Dragon_. Huang stared up at the 60 ton BattleMech in awe.

"Don't gawk at that thing too long," Fred warned. "It might make you hurl."

The Kuritan 'Mech didn't keep Huang's focus long. As they walked on, his attention became fixed on the 75 ton OmniMech in the next bay. "You have a _Mad Cat_? Sweet. So, what do I get to pilot?"

Fred chuckled. "Oh, you'll get a Cat of your own, alright," he said with a smirk.

"Should you really be teasing the newbie?" Randi murmured.

Fred murmured back with a grin, "Teasing? What do you mean?" Then louder, he said, "Huang _is_ getting a Cat," as the small party made their way over to the _Shadow Cat_.

Ned gave a low whistle as they approached, prompting a confused look from Fred.

"Hey, eyes on your work, buddy," Harrison called down to the younger Tech. "You're gonna weld your hand to this thing if you don't pay attention."

"And it will _still_ be a better weld than Fred's."

Fred glared up at the two Techs. "I heard that!" He then glanced back to Huang. "Ahem. That's our senior Technician Harrison," he said, "and asTech Ned."

Huang looked a little disappointed. "They're still working on it..."

"Well, of course. We, uh, wanted it to be just right for you. Unless you want a one armed 'Mech or something."

Huang's excitement seemed to build. "Yes, I finally have a 'Mech!"

"Perhaps we should give our new recruit a quick briefing while we wait?" Randi suggested.

"Ah, right. Rule number one," Fred said, leading them back to the lounge, "no dying. If you do die, we'll fire you."

Huang nodded. "Right... Wait, what?"

"Rule number two, no crepes." His expression darkened. "It's the food of Davions. But you're Capellan so you probably hate them, anyway, right? Yeah, I think you and I will get along just fine."

The young man's expression went from confused to annoyed. "I'm _Capollan_, not Capellan."

"What is the difference?" asked Randi, blithely.

"That I'm from the Terracap Confederation, and I'm not evil," Huang replied firmly.

"Alright, then... Erm, rule number three—" Fred was suddenly cut off by the rumble of an approaching 'Mech.

As the footsteps drew closer, gradually slowing to a full stop, Randi jogged ahead and opened the door. A heavy 'Mech loomed just meters from the hangar, back-lit by the sun. She squinted up at the giant machine—a _Quickdraw_ painted in scrub brush camo—and watched as its cockpit hatch opened slowly.

The pilot took off her neuro-helmet and waved down to them. "Afternoon," she called. "Where would ya like me to park my 'Mech?"

"Ah, Freeman!" Fred smiled and called back to her, "You can leave it right there. We'll be running some exercises later. Until then, please join us and meet the crew. If you'd like, you can get some snacks in the lounge." He jerked a thumb back towards the room behind him. "You, too, Huang," he said to the younger MechWarrior.

"Oh, thanks." He grinned and disappeared into the lounge room.

Randi looked up as she heard footsteps on the catwalk, to see Ned wander over towards them. He rubbed his wrist across his forehead as he took off the welding mask and slid his arm through the strap. "Hey, the _Cat_ is almost ready," he said, walking down the stairs to join them. "Harrison is just double-checking everything."

"Oh, good work."

The Tech nodded, but looked like he had something on his mind. "So, uh," he began after a moment, "who's the new chick with the long hair?"

"Long hair?" asked Randi, confused. Freeman's hair probably brushed her shoulders at most, when it wasn't upswept.

"Yeah. She looked pretty cute. Well, as much as I could tell from two storeys up with this mask on."

Randi began to speak, but Fred cut her off. "Oh, that's our new MechWarrior—Nikky," he replied with a smirk.

"Nikky, huh? Is she single?"

Fred's smirk grew. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask for yourself." Just then, Huang walked out of the lounge, taking a huge bite of a club sandwich. "Hey, _Nikolai_, c'mere."

Ned looked first startled, then flustered, and glared at Fred. "You jackass_._"

The MechWarrior just laughed. "Don't worry, there's always Hank."

"Ha, ha. _Funny,_" Ned replied, climbing back up the stairs to return to the _Shadow Cat_.

"Hrmph?" Huang looked back and forth between Fred and Randi, still munching on his sandwich.

"As soon as the _Shadow Cat_ is ready, we'll start our training exercises. When Freeman gets here I'll go over how we're going to do this."

"Shoundsh good," Huang agreed, around a mouthful of turkey and lettuce.

The door creaked open again as the last member of their new lance walked into the hangar, already dressed in her field gear, with her neuro-helmet tucked under one arm. "Hi, y'all. Did I miss much of anything?" she asked, looking around.

"Just Nikolai stuffing his face," Fred replied with a shrug. "Since we're all here, I'll go ahead and give you the game plan for this training exercise. Freeman, you'll need to lock your weapons in safe mode. We've got some training equipment in the lounge—just plug it into your 'Mech's computer. Now, for this exercise, you two will be fighting Randi in her _Mad Cat_. I will be in the _Dragon_, observing you and giving support. Remember, you're lancemates now, so I'll expect you to act like it."

"Are there any nav points or additional objectives?"

Fred smiled. "Nope. Consider this a search and destroy mission in unknown terrain."

"Sounds fun. Anything else?"

"Only that I expect you to treat this like a real op and to adapt to any situation you may encounter."

"When will we get back?" Huang asked, finishing off his sandwich.

"When one side wins. Either you get Randi, or she gets you. Any more questions? No? Alright, let's suit up."

Randi leaned over to Fred. "You know I will not go easy on them. Are you going to bail them out, if they get in over their heads?"

He smiled back at her. "If I have to. I don't want to our new pilots to get beat up... too much."


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's notes: Again, I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story. Characterization is a big concern to me, and I enjoy writing for colorful characters. Of course, this is still BattleTech, so, it's time to get to the action!_

Chapter 4

"See you on the field," Randi said over the open comm, as she moved her 'Mech out of its bay. Ahead of her, the hangar doors slid open with a groan.

"See you there," Fred said, moving his _Dragon_ forward after her.

Huang soon interrupted. "Um, where's the ignition? Wait, I found it. Heh, never piloted an OmniMech before."

"It's not too different from an IS 'Mech, Nikolai." Fred then shouted, "Watch it!"

The _Shadow Cat_ swayed a bit as it stood up and stepped out of its bay. There was a loud metallic screech as the Cat moved too close to the side of the bay, scrapping some paint off its older arm. "Sorry, sorry!"

Randi glanced up at her 'Mech's viewscreen. In the rear arc, she could see the _Shadow Cat_ sway a little, and stumble out of the hangar. Fortunately, Huang kept his balance well enough to avoid falling, but his gait seemed was like that of someone buzzed on alcohol. After a moment, though, it smoothed out to a more correct walk, with the Omni's feet moving straight, and its torso held properly.

"Heh, this Clan neuro-helmet feels kinda weird..." Huang said, "but I think I've got the hang of it, now."

"Good." Fred walked out of the hangar after him, then moved his _Dragon_ off to the side. "We'll give Randi a head start. Hank, form up on my left."

"Roger!" Freeman pushed her _Quickdraw_ into a trot and quickly moved around around the hangar to join the others.

Once they were all in position, Randi torso-twisted back towards Fred and raised her left gun a bit, as a gesture that she was ready. With that, she turned to passive sensors, and pushed _Nyx_ into a run. Dirt and sod flew up from the 75-tonner's feet as it ascended a low hill, and then disappeared over the other side.

She moved quickly, making the most of her 'Mech's jumpjets and speed to escape deep into the mission area. Keeping to passive sensors would give her lancemates a more difficult time in finding her, though it also meant that she could not see them. The best thing was just to keep moving. If they did spot her, she could slip away again before they had a chance to attack.

Before Randi realized it, half an hour had passed. She wondered if the others' patience still held; she could keep this up all day, if necessary. As she came to the base of another low hill, she hit her jumpjets and let the hot plasma shove her 'Mech up into the air. The _Mad Cat_ landed with a solid thump at the crest of the hill, and she quickly began to scan her surroundings.

Turning swiftly, she suddenly caught a glimpse of the _Quickdraw_ and _Shadow Cat_ prowling through open terrain to the south. The _Cat_ turned towards her swiftly and raised its guns.

"I found her!" Huang exclaimed over the open channel, and fired at her wildly.

The training equipment hooked up to their 'Mechs calculated the weapons fire of each, and rendered those paths to all the other 'Mechs on the field. Though there was not so much as a flicker of light from the _Shadow Cat's_ laser barrels, her viewscreen became riddled with computer-generated lines to indicate the shots virtually.

Hank's attack was far more precise than the younger pilot's. She moved forward to the edge of some low trees to give her 'Mech some cover, and aimed at the black _Mad Cat_. Lazily, Randi's computer informed her of a missile launch, while the simulation graphics confirmed the salvo on screen.

_'Dammit,'_ she hissed mentally, as she torso-twisted back towards them to retaliate. Randi squeezed the trigger for both of her PPCs, and then jumped down over the ridge, not caring if her shots "hit" their mark.

"Running away already?" Huang laughed.

Randi ignored the remark, and stalked down through a shallow valley. She moved quickly to the southwest, flanking the pair. The moment she reached the edge of the valley, she burst from cover on her jumpjets, and switched to active radar. Again, she fired both PPCs—this time at Hank. The simulation registered that both shots caught the _Quickdraw_ in its chest as it turned to face her, and its armor levels dropped on her display.

"Augh! You just pissed her off!" Freeman grumbled to her partner. Her 'Mech looked slightly dazed as the program fuzzed up its sensors and caused the machine to lean, simulating the blasts, but she returned the attack swiftly.

A shrill ring sounded in Randi's cockpit, and again the computer informed her, "Missile launch detected." Six of the ten missiles scored a hit, and the _Mad Cat_ seized up as well. Without pause, she jumped again, this time into a stand of trees on another low hill. Using the high ground to her advantage, she tried next to score a hit against Huang. Just as she squeezed the trigger, the _Shadow Cat_ lurched forward into a full run, and her weapon paths sailed past him. He fired back at her, but running threw off his aim, and the large laser registered as merely a grazing shot against _Nyx_. The computer gave her another warning as she twisted to track the _Shadow Cat_, but it came too late. The calculations showed that some of the _Quickdraw's_ unguided missiles had broken through the tree cover, and buffeted her 'Mech's side.

Watching her armor levels drop by a few more points, Randi decided to retreat further, breaking into a run. She darted through the hills and gullies, searching for a better firing position. As she ran and jumped, however, both 'Mechs continued to chase her. With the _Shadow Cat's_ speed, Nikolai was beginning to catch up to her. Randi was not about to let him corral her, though. She jumped as far as she could up the side of the next hill, and then paused for a moment, turning back towards him. Before he could raise his guns, she turned her right arm and squeezed the trigger. Almost instantly, the _Shadow Cat_ shuddered and twisted away from her. The calculated path of her PPC went straight to its left torso, and its armor blinked red on the screen diagram.

"Better watch yourself," Fred admonished Huang over the open channel. "A meter more to the right, and she'd have nailed you in the head." He chuckled, but stayed back from the fight.

Randi moved again into the forest, but kept an eye on her partner's brightly colored 'Mech. She wasn't quite sure if or when he would enter the fray. As long as this exercise continued, however, she refused to trust that he would not attack her without warning. The more immediate threat, however, was Huang. As she began to slip further and further away from him, he pushed his 'Mech to its top speed. Suddenly, though, the Shadow Cat's legs jerked weirdly and locked, sending the 'Mech tumbling to the ground.

"Aw, hell," Fred muttered. "Huang! You okay?"

"Ugh... Y-Yeah, I'm fine," the younger MechWarrior answered. "I just hit the MASC, and the 'Mech froze up..."

"Guess I should've warned you about that," replied Fred apologetically. "The MASC on that thing is kind of thing is kind of shoddy."

"I'll remember that..."

As Nikolai slowly got his 'Mech back on its feet, the _Quickdraw_ jumped past him. Freeman moved to protect her comrade, and fired her medium lasers at the _Mad Cat_. One was blocked by the trees, but the other registered as a scrape on the 75-tonner's torso. Still on the move, Randi fired back with her medium pulse lasers, but her movement across the rocky hillside ruined the shots.

By now, the _Shadow Cat_ was standing again. Huang moved more cautiously than before, as he tracked her through the light woods. Circling around to push her towards Freeman, he fired a salvo of his SRMs, which registered as a peppering of damage across _Nyx's_ armor. Randi made a break for the top of the hill, hoping to disappear over the other side and lose them. As she jumped into open stretch of ground, trying to get to the next stand of trees, another hail of SRM paths appeared on her viewscreen. Hank and Nikolai actually posed something of a threat now that they were concentrating their fire. She decided to end that.

She jerked the stick to the left, torso-twisting swiftly to face the _Shadow Cat_, and mashed down on the controls for all of her weapons. A mass of computer-drawn lines raced across the screen, showing the path of each shot. The PPCs speared into the medium 'Mech's torso, turning the armor orange on the indicator. One of her medium pulse lasers missed its mark, but the other glanced across Huang's cockpit.

He stumbled as the training program forced some feedback into his neuro-helmet, to imitate the the disorienting sensation that would be caused by an equivalent amount of real damage. The young pilot managed to keep his balance, but Randi had disappeared once more by the time he recovered.

"See? I warned you about that," Fred told him with a chuckle.

Hank continued to pursue the _Mad Cat_ silently, and launched a salvo of her LRM-10s. As the missile damage registered on her screen, Randi jumped again and perched her 'Mech on top of a short cliff. Normally, she could judge the amount of heat she had built up with little thought; rise in the cockpit's temperature was a good indicator. Without that heat buildup, however, she had to pay more attention to her instruments. Randi glanced down at her heat levels quickly, and frowned as she saw that her heat sinks were still struggling after her earlier alpha-strike.

She wet her lips with her tongue lightly, and twisted while she walked, firing a single PPC at Hank. The _Quickdraw_ saw the attack and tried to dodge, but the beam path grazed its torso. Its comparatively thin armor dropped, and the opposing 'Mech's LRM-10 turned red on Randi's indicator.

To her right, she could see the _Shadow Cat_ cantering up the slope of the hill to cut off her path. Instinctively, she whipped back towards the _Quickdraw_ and blasted it, "destroying" the left arm and gyro. In response, the program immediately shut down those systems. Without a gyro to balance her 60-ton machine, Hank stumbled back, grabbing at nearby trees to prevent herself from slipping down the hill.

Just as she was ready to pounce and finish the prone 'Mech, a missile lock warning sounded in her cockpit, and the impact of an LRM-10 salvo registered on her armor levels. Randi looked up to her viewscreen to see the bedazzled _Dragon_ approaching, its guns at the ready. She chuckled a little and trotted up the hill, then jumped down from the cliff and into the small pool below with a splash.

"Freeman, are you okay?" Fred asked.

"I'm fine, sir. Just scuffed the paint," she replied calmly, though there was a displeased tone to her voice. The _Quickdraw_ clambered back to its feet slowly, trudging down the hillside carefully. "Most of my weapons are offline, though."

"Don't worry," Huang chimed in, "I'll get the _Mad Cat_."

Randi prowled through the pool, feeling her 'Mech sink into the sand ever so slightly with each step. Around the hillside, she spotted the _Shadow Cat_ running towards her and jumped back up to the cliff. A few rocks slipped out from under her feet to the water below, prompting her to step back from the ledge. Now in range, Huang fired his large lasers up at her. A pair of lines quickly appeared on her viewscreen, and her torso armor yellowed further to show the damage.

Her quick dip in the pool had sinked all of _Nyx's_ excess heat, giving her plenty of leeway to attack. She grinned, pitching her OmniMech's torso down towards the _Shadow Cat_, and unleashed another alpha-strike. Trajectory paths filled the screen as the damage reports returned. First the medium 'Mech's arm went black on her indicator, then its left torso, and finally its center torso. It shut down and slumped over where it stood, motionless.

"What the— She just killed me!" he cried. Randi could hear the dull male voice of the _Franken Cat's_ computer reporting gyro and engine destruction, and a resolute "No!" beep from the computer each time Nikolai tried to start up the 'Mech. "Argh!" he growled again.

"Quiet on the comm," Fred said. "Dead 'Mechs don't get to talk."

Randi turned to peer back down over the hill, but Freeman's 'Mech stood still. "I've got nothing but my lasers now," she said with a sigh. "Unless you intend to take her on, sir, I think we've had it."

Fred twisted his 'Mech to look up at the _Mad Cat_. "Ah, maybe later," he said. "Okay. Everyone, reset your training equipment, and then we'll move on to the next exercise: defensive duty! I know that's everyone's favorite thing, right?" he asked with a sarcastic chuckle.

"Wait, that's all I had to do?" Huang asked. His 'Mech purred back to life quickly, and he pushed it into a trot. The _Shadow Cat_ pranced around in a circle as he tested it to assure himself that all the systems had returned to normal. "Sweet!"

Freeman's _Quickdraw_ similarly recovered as she reset the program, and Randi did the same. _Nyx's_ armor indicators turned a pleasant green once more, as she moved to regroup with the others, and its heat dropped down to neutral.

"This next exercise is simple," Fred explained, as he led them towards the next area. "Huang, Freeman, and I will be defending a convoy vehicle as we escort it from one nav point to the next. Randi gets to be our bandit again, and try to 'destroy' the vehicle. All we have to do is stop her."

"Understood," Hank said.

"Uhm, what vehicle are we protecting?" asked Nikolai.

"That," Fred replied, gesturing with his _Dragon's_ arm to a small flatbed truck parked outside the MechHangar. "Harrison, are you ready?"

"Yeah. But I'm still trying to figure out how you roped me into this," the Technician muttered. The flatbed chugged to a start, and began moving east.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next mission area was a small "town" consisting of dilapidated, rust-eaten storage buildings and a few empty hangars adjacent to the mercenaries' own. The pavement was cracked and pot-holed, but a driveable service road still snaked between the buildings. From her vantage point behind a heap of scrap metal, Randi could see Fred and the others moving into the cluster of buildings.

The _Dragon_ trotted alongside the truck, matching its pace. "Pretend that the truck is something big and important, everyone," he said. "Nik and I will keep Randi at bay. Hank, I want you to stick with the truck and give fire support when you can. Remember: try not to get shot."

Freeman replied with a brisk, "Copy," and Huang chimed in with an enthusiastic, "Roger!"

"Alright, let's move out. Nikolai, take point and use your active probe to look for Randi."

"Uh..." There was a bit of a pause before Huang confirmed. "Oh! Copy." He pushed the _Shadow Cat_ up to a low cruising speed and began scanning the terrain ahead of the convoy. As Fred's _Dragon_ followed him, Randi made her move. Rising from her position, she slammed down on the throttle and sprinted towards the back of the convoy.

"She's approaching from our six!" Huang exclaimed.

"A little late, there," Fred replied, unamused. He turned his 'Mech around to engage. "Harrison, floor it!"

"Don't hafta tell me twice," the Tech said, pushing the truck into overdrive.

Hank gave a more professional report. "Visual on the bandit—seven hundred meters," she said, keeping pace with Harrison's truck as she tracked the _Mad Cat_.

The paths for an LRM salvo appeared on Randi's screen, but she knew it was more of a distraction than an attempt to stop her. The attack merely grazed her, with a single missile scoring damage against her right torso. Unfazed, she continued to pursue her traget.

"Nikolai! Go join Hank and help her cover the truck," Fred ordered.

"Roger." Huang turned the _Shadow Cat_ around and ran to reinforce the _Quickdraw's_ attack.

Randi fired a few pot-shots at the 60-tonner, but continued moving past it. Just as she lined her targeting reticule up with the flatbed, the vehicle disappeared around a corner. Hank, unshaken by the _Mad Cat's_ lasers, jumped across a low building and landed in the middle of the road to block Randi's path, and quickly launched a salvo of missiles.

Single-minded, Randi poured all of _Nyx's_ weapons into the _Quickdraw_, in turn. The calculations showed that her weapons fire had punched clean through the opposing 'Mech's cockpit. Now locked by the training equipment, it slumped over, comatose. Even as the 60-tonner froze, the computer registered Hank's missile hits. In response, the training program sent a disorienting feedback coursing through Randi's neuro-helmet—one of the missiles had punched her _Mad Cat_ in the head. Fighting off the sensation, she looked up to see Fred's _Dragon_ closing in on her.

The armor on her right torso dropped suddenly, and the computer registered a slug hit from Fred's LB-5X. The training equipment made her 'Mech shudder a little, but she slammed down on her jumpjets in spite of the attack and hopped out into the open. The _Dragon_ and _Shadow Cat_ quickly moved into her path, each readying their guns. Randi swiftly brought her cross hairs down over her target and grinned, squeezing the trigger.

An instant later, weapon trajectories filled her screen and warnings blared in the cockpit as both 'Mechs unleashed their full firepower on her Omni. The computer's assessments became jumbled, as it confirmed the cascading damage. First her right arm dissolved, along with the adjacent torso armor; next the hip actuator; the center torso armor, then gyro, and finally, engine all disintegrated under the hail of ordnance. The _Mad Cat_ shuddered, stumbling as its actuators locked, and came to a dead halt. Finally, all of its systems went dark, and the 75-ton 'Mech leaned over sharply, its cockpit pointing down at the ground.

"Haha! We did it!" cheered Huang, excitedly. His _Shadow Cat_ darted back and forth exuberantly.

"No," Harrison broke in, "ya _didn't_."

"Huh? The _Mad Cat_ is dead," the young pilot responded, puzzled.

"And so am _I_. Computer says she got her shot in just before yours," the Tech explained. "Looks there was enough firepower to rip through even a medium tank. Thanks for letting your lady-friend kill me, Fred."

There was only a grumble from Fred, as he turned his 'Mech back towards the _Mad Cat_.

"I win," Randi chuckled, looking up to see his _Dragon_ approach.

"Ah, what're you so happy about?" he muttered. "You're dead."

She merely chuckled again in response.

"I think that's enough for now. Let's, uh, take a lunch break," he said to the others. "Reset the training equipment, then go ahead and park in the hangar."

* * * * *

"Hey, guys," Ned greeted the lance as they walked into the lounge. "How was the slaughter—I mean, the exercise?" He chuckled and grinned, taking a sip of coffee as he stepped past the others.

Fred just rolled his eyes. "Have fun buffing the scrapes out of the _Shadow Cat_."

"Wha— It's beat up already?" He frowned and took a deeper drink of his coffee, muttering something under his breath as he walked off to the bay.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," Fred said, as everyone sat down at the table. "Randi beat us pretty bad, but not as bad as I had expected. She's an excellent warrior."

"Certainly is," Hank said, giving Randi a respectful nod. The red-headed womane looked down into the glass of tea she held and turned it in her hand a little, swirling the ice cubes in it. While she didn't complain about the losses, it was clear that her ego was slightly bruised.

"Yeah, I thought we had her," Huang added, his disappointment obvious. "I mean, we destroyed the _Mad Cat_."

"Convoy missions aren't _about_ destroying the enemy, they're about protecting our charge. Imagine that our flatbed truck driven by Harrison had actually been, say... a limo carrying a diplomat. Do you really think we'd see a check once we told them he was scattered across half a klick? No? I don't either. Now, in the first exercise, I didn't really expect you to win. Randi held the advantage in that op." Continuing, he said, "Still, I'm pretty pleased. Hank, your LRM gunnery is very good, and you stayed on your target."

Hank smiled a little and nodded. "Thanks, sir."

"Your performance during the second exercise was good, as well," Randi added. "You were just a bit less fortunate that time."

Nikolai wanted in on the attention. "How did I do?"

"You were pretty aggressive out there. I was surprised," Fred replied. "That's good, but there's more to it than that."

"Engaging the MASC was—or rather, would have been a good idea, if the system worked," said Randi. "However, you didn't make full use of your 'Mech's maneuverability."

"Sorry. I'm simply not used to ClanTech. I'm more used things like _Commandos_." He shrugged, running a hand back over his ponytail. "But I'm quick to adapt."

She pursed her lips a little, an odd feeling of doubt creeping into the back of her mind, but decided to let the matter go for the present. "You did well, too," she said, glancing up at Fred next, and gave him a teasing smile.

"Thank you, Miss Greene," Fred teased back and chuckled. "And so did you. That suicide charge surprised me."

"I know," she chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Remember, in the Clans, the mission is all that matters. Dying is no problem, so long as you accomplish your goal."

Huang looked confused. "You were in the Clans?" He stepped closer to her. "Where're the funky tattoos?"

"Tattoos?" she asked, bemusedly.

"Ya know, like Malthus has. They glow when you go into Enhanced Imaging mode."

"Which Malthus?" She frowned. "And EI tattoos do not glow."

Fred chuckled lightly. "You don't mean you thought everything in that old 'Somerset Strikers' trid was real, right?"

Huang looked unsure. "Um, right. Heh, I was just joking." Fred's chuckle softened as he glanced between Randi and Huang.

"Ah, Hank, you have not had a chance to meet the rest of our crew," Randi said.

Freeman nodded and stood, taking her tea with her. "Guess I should go introduce myself, then." She stepped out of the door and began making her way through the hangar.

Fred sat down on the edge of a table and crossed his arms. "Nikolai, what 'Mechs have you piloted before?"

Huang looked off to the side and shrugged. "Oh, ya know. _Commando_, _Wolfhound_, _Lineholder_..."

Fred nodded. "You like the _Wolfhound_?"

The young man smiled. "Yeah, it's been my favorite by far."

"I'm interested in how a 'Mech like that found its way to a tiny world like Capolla. I'd always thought that was more of a Lyran chassis."

"Well..." Huang shifted. "Probably salvage—"

"What's your date of birth?" Randi interrupted.

Huang was caught off guard, but answered swiftly. "March 21, 3051. Why? What's with the interrogation?"

"You told us you were eighteen."

"I am."

"Try that math again," she said.

Huang looked startled, then lowered his head, cursing under his breath in a language that neither of them understood. "So, I lied a little."

"If you're not eighteen, then that means you couldn't have served in the Capollan militia," Fred piped in. "And even if you did, there's no way you could pilot three different 'Mechs in your first year—and definitely not a _Wolfhound_."

Huang shrunk under the pressure. "So, I lied a lot..."

Randi frowned. "What 'Mechs _have_ you piloted?"

"Uh, real 'Mechs? Heh, well, there's the _Shadow Cat_..." he said sheepishly.

"_Ay, dios mio_." Fred shook his head in disbelief.

"Maybe we should have hired Captain Morgan, instead," Randi said sardonically.

Huang panicked. "Wait, you can't get rid of me! I have a contract!"

"Why should we not fire you?" Randi asked. "You lied about your qualifications, which gives us the right to terminate your contract immediately. If you cannot pilot a 'Mech, you are of no use to us, anyway."

"But I have lots of simulator time! That's almost like the real thing..."

"Simulators are for children," she scoffed. "When I was seventeen, I had already been piloting a _real_ 'Mech for two years."

"Well, I'm not a Clanner," he shot back.

"Hold it!" Fred looked at the teenager sternly. "That's not important, right now. Maybe we can salvage this, though. Time is short."

Huang took advantage of his comment. "Yeah, I'm good at other things. I can help the Technicians... I can clean the 'Mechs."

"And that still leaves us one MechWarrior short of a lance," Randi persisted. "If we keep him on, that only takes up money and space that we could use for a real pilot."

"Please, I'll do anything! I need this job!"

She gave a snort, growing annoyed with his pleas. "MechWarriors do not beg, either. You are still a child," Randi chided him. "Just go home. Maybe you can enlist in the Capollan milita next year."

Huang looked even more panicked at this. "No, you don't understand!" he said desperately. "I _can't_ go home!"

"Nikolai, just... go help Ned with the _Shadow Cat_, while we talk this over," Fred sighed, rubbing his temples.

For a moment, Huang looked as though he was going to protest. Instead of speaking, however, he just hung his head and sulked out of the room.

"Look," Fred continued, turning towards Randi, "I know simulators aren't the real thing, but I trained on them before getting in a real 'Mech. Most people in the InnerSphere do. Even hotshots like Victor Too-Many-Surnames and Kai probably started on simulators. Like I said, maybe we can salvage this. I don't think there's enough time to find a replacement for him, anyway."

"Okay... Convince me," she said, leaning back in her chair. "What do you think is 'salvageable' about him?"

"He has sim time, so he at least knows the basics already. I know he doesn't have any field experience, but that also means that doesn't have any bad or stupid habits from being in a militia. Plus, he's got moxie. When he fell, he got right back on his feet and kept fighting."

She chewed her lip lightly in thought, thinking back to the exercises. She considered Huang's behavior somewhat foolhardy. However, tenacity in battle was an excellent quality for a MechWarrior to have if, it was tempered by experience. In spite of skill, some of her own sibkin had washed out of the Warrior Caste because they lacked the will to engage a dangerous enemy or fight a losing battle. Those who graduated to become full-fledged Warriors had both aptitude and aggression.

"Very well," she said, finally. "If you think it best to keep Huang on with us, then I will do what I can to help you train him."


	6. Chapter 6

_Notes: Since Rogue brought it up, everything that transpired in the last two training battles is based on "real" events--i.e. a MegaMek match. Often, Hellcat and I will "act out" a battle via MegaMek and then novelize it. Sometimes the results of a game can be a surprise even to us, so it's a good way to add an extra level of anticipation to a fight scene._

* * *

Chapter 6

Castor's primary spaceport was a hive of activity even in late in the evening. People swarmed about at the terminal, while shuttles and loader roamed the docking area. In the distance, Randi could hear the thunderous sound of a DropShip firing thrusters to slow its descent. Looking ahead, she could see the spherical form of a _Union_-class DropShip resting on the gantry. She slowed her OmniMech to cautious pace and plodded up the ramp.

The ship's bay was divided into two sections; the first could hold eight 'Mechs, while the latter only accommodated a single lance. She looked around for a moment, but the _Shadow Cat_ and their erratically colored _Dragon_ quickly caught her eye. The 60-tonner's sickening paint scheme was being replaced with a more conservative desert camouflage. However, the Techs had only managed to cover the torso and arms, before today. The legs were still painted in that glaring dazzle scheme, which gave the overall impression that the _Dragon_ was wearing clown pants. She frowned, hoping that they could finish its new camo soon.

Slowing again, she walked up to an empty holding rack, turned, and backed into it carefully. After one last look around the bay, she shut down the giant machine and began disconnecting herself from it. As she removed her neuro-helmet, she watched Hank follow suit, maneuvering the _Quickdraw_ into the rack beside hers. Only Fred's mangled BattleMech had yet to arrive.

Climbing out of the cockpit, an odd sound of _thump-skff-thump_ brought her attention to the loading ramp. At the entrance of the bay stood _Beowulf,_ tottering a bit to its right as Fred tried to get his center of balance. After a moment, he nudged the throttle forward, and the 'Mech resumed its limping gait.

They had been fortunate enough to come across some new actuators and myomer at a scrapyard some days ago. The replacements were not a perfect fit—in fact, continued use would likely cause even more damage—but it was enough for now. The priority had been simply to get the _Hellhound_ walking again, so that they could load and unload it from the ship. Moving it via salvage track was expensive.

At present, it barely looked like a _Hellhound_ at all. The left leg had been completely stripped of armor and the left arm disconnected, in order to avoid over-stressing the hip. Most of its weapons, too, had been removed. Those parts had already been packed into the _Union's_ cargo bays.

Randi climbed up onto the catwalk and waved to her partner as he stopped in front of the rack opposite her. Though his 'Mech's movements were jerky, it seemed that he had everything under control. She leaned back against the wall, watching him, and began mentally reviewing their itinerary.

Having disembarked from her own 'Mech, Hank climbed onto the walkway and approached Randi. "I see y'all got the _Hellhound's_ leg reattached," she mused.

"It does not fit, correctly, though," Randi replied. "It came from a forty-ton 'Mech."

Freeman grimaced. "Yeah, I was guessin' this was kind of a patch. The Techs did a good job on it, though."

"They always do."

She nodded. "Yeah, speaking of... The younger guy, Ned? I think he dislikes me..."

Randi just quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm not coming to you to complain, or anything," she said quickly, blushing. "Heh, I'd just like to know what I've done to upset him, so I can apologize."

"I don't know Ned that well, but I'll help if I can. What happened?"

"Well, he seemed sort flustered when I introduced myself to him the other day. Actually, he looked pretty pissed-off, right at first."

"When you told him your _name?_"

"Yeah."

Randi rolled her eyes. "Oh, Fred..." she muttered. "Ah, I would not worry too much about Ned if I were you. He'll get over it."

"Um. Oh, okay," Hank said hesitantly. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Please, don't call me 'ma'am'."

"Right."

Fred, now sitting on top of his 'Mech, waved to them. "That's the last one. Everything else accounted for?"

"As soon as Nikolai gets here," Randi called back to him, nodding. "I think Ned and Harrison are already on the passenger deck."

"In that case, I suggest we join our wonderful Techs," he said, patting _Beowulf_ as he stood.

* * * * *

"I-I'm here!" Nikolai panted as walked into the room where the rest of the company had settled, dragging his feet. He leaned against the door frame, and set down the boxes he had been carrying, then unslung the over-sized rucksack weighing down on him.

"About time you showed up, kid," Harrison said.

"Sorry..." he huffed. "I got held up at the luggage check, and then they sent me to the wrong deck."

"Where'd you end up?" asked Hank, reclining her chair comfortably.

He glowered and slid the luggage into compartments under the seat row, then sat down across from her. "Steerage."

Fred snickered as he began passing out drinks.

Huang looked dismayed when he didn't get one. "Where's my drink?"

"Yours? Hmm..." Fred thought for a moment. "Oh, right, I think there's a sippy cup for you in the back."

The teenager gave him an indignant look. "Aw, come on! I've been dragging everyone's luggage around all day," he huffed. "I don't see why _I_ have to be the pack mule, anyway."

"Because you're now a part of Clan Zirconium Fred—named, of course, for the deadly _Fredicus Fredicus_ of Acosta V."

"Uh...What?" Nikolai asked, blinking.

"I can see in your rather blank eyes that your faith in the Fred is weak. Indeed, it is a complex and mysterious creature. A noble beast of handsome build—the envy of men and the desire of women. Its ways are unknown, though it is reported to enjoy breakfast food and long walks on the beach. It may take some time for you to understand our totem," he said, continuing on with a look of the most solemn severity. "Only through hard labor and sacrifice, can you honor and serve this Clan, and one day bring glory to the Fred."

The young man only stared at him dumbly, but Hank and Ned burst out laughing.

"Besides," Randi added, "this is part of your punishment for lying to us."

Huang looked aggravated and confused. "Oh, come on."

Fred chuckled at his dismay. "Loosen up and relax. You're not dead and we haven't fired you, yet." He leaned back and took a sip of his drink. "Hey, look on the bright side. You'll actually learn how to be a MechWarrior instead of playing computer games."

"Unless we can find a replacement for you. In which case, we'll fire you immediately, without severance pay," Randi reminded him.

"Oh, that reminds me... Before we do any firing of any kind, we need call-signs." Fred added, "We need it for the paperwork."

Randi looked over at the red-headed woman across from her. "I assume you already have one, Hank?"

"Yeah, my old unit named me 'Vixen'," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Do you want to keep it?"

"Well, I guess I'm sort of attached to it, by now." She chuckled. "Besides, I consider myself lucky. It was better than some of the other 'red-head' suggestions."

"Alright, we have Black Wolf, Vixen..." He turned to Huang and grinned. "And..?"

Huang smiled. "Wolfhound!"

"No. You can't be a 'Mech, you're not awesome enough for that." He chuckled. "Seriously, though, no 'Mech names, battle terms, or anything long or confusing."

"Oh, alright. Then 'Death Blade,' it is. I always liked that one."

Harrison rolled his eyes. "More like 'Butter-knife'."

Huang glared at him. "Okay, then 'Firestorm'."

"Uh..." Randi began, frowning.

"No? How about 'Magnum,' or 'Reaper'?" Nikolai continued.

"I don't think you quite understand how this works," said Harrison. "Didn't ya hear what Hank said, just now? That her _unit_ named her? That's the first rule!"

Huang frowned. "Well, you better name me something cool."

"Alright." Fred grinned. "Your name is 'Kitten.' After all, you're about as scary as one. Everyone agree?"

"Second rule," Harrison said, as he watched the young man blanch, "is that you're likely to hate your call-sign."

"Don't worry," Randi said, smirking. "Maybe if you train hard enough, you can earn a 'promotion' from 'Kitten' to 'Kit Fox.'"

"The _hell?!_" he sputtered. "That's not badass, either!"

Ned leaned forward and grinned. "So, fearless leader, what about _your_ call-sign?"

"Yeah, are you planning to keep keep 'Mangy Mutt'?" Harrison jibed.

Fred glared at the Tech. "Dingo," he corrected, "and no. That was temporary. Hm, let's see..." He stroked his goatee in thought.

Randi took a sip of her drink and looked over at him curiously. "What was your original call-sign?"

"Eh, I don't recall that one. It's been so long..."

"Maybe I can jog your memory, then," Harrison snickered. "It was a very... _a__pt_ descriptor."

"Nope, heh, still can't remember it. It's not important now, anyway."

"Yeah, I'm sure you don't, _Trouble_." The older man grinned.

Fred shook his head. "Fine, yeah. It was 'Trouble'; but that was then. I think I've worked hard to enough to upgrade to something better."

"So, you've gone from mischief to mayhem?" joked Ned.

"Hehheh, yeah... Actually, I think I like it. Thanks, Ned."

"Wha—? Really? Well, that just sucks all the fun out of it," the Tech grumbled.

"Attention, all passengers," an announcer's voice boomed over the ship's comm, interrupting their party, "lift-off will commence in two minutes. Please secure all parcels, lock your chairs into the upright position, and buckle your safety harness."

The mercenaries quickly dispensed with their drinks and fastened their harnesses, ready for the voyage to begin. The Wyatt system was only twenty-five light-years away, a trip that the _Merchant_ JumpShip would make in just the blink of an eye. The bulk of the voyage was spent in loading and unloading their supplies onto the DropShip, and then making the trip from planet to outer space, where it would dock with the _Merchant_.

Randi was excited about the prospect of a new mission. Working for Bowie Industries was certainly a big step from their time at Quikscell, or even the respectable but brief contract they had held with Zettle Metals. She still had her doubts about the effectiveness of their newly-formed lance, but the slow pace of this job would give them plenty of time to integrate Freeman and train Huang.

For a moment, she wondered if they were being too hard on the would-be pilot. Then, she recalled how harsh her instructors had been. _'He has it easy,'_ she thought with a smirk.

* * * * *

The planet of Wyatt was a desolate place. The brick constructs of its capital, Hartsburg, rose up from the desert like a child's sandcastle. Beyond the city, however, nature ruled. Bizarre, twisted rock formations scraped the deep blue sky. Centuries of wind and sand had carved them into arches, spires, and towers, making every rock into a monument. Some even gave the suggestion of figures, kneeling or standing in a garden of rubble and sandstone.

A well paved road, glinting in the strong sunlight, was the only clue that humanity had extended its reach through the desert. The Vigilante Guard followed it closely through the more open portion of the desert, trekking through the dust to their destination.

"Alright, we should be approaching Bowie Industries' compound soon. Let's try and look professional here," Fred said, moving the clownish _Dragon_ at a cruising pace.

"Roger!" Nikolai chimed, bringing the _Shadow Cat_ up beside the larger 'Mech. "This is gonna be so cool."

"Just don't mess it up, Kitten."

The younger pilot sputtered indignantly, and grumbled, "Seriously? I'm really stuck with that?"

"The more you protest, the more likely the answer will be 'forever,'" said Randi. "And the formation is a wedge—not line abreast. You are out of place."

He grumbled again and fell back into position.

"Ya know, if you keep that attitude up, I'll turn this lance right around, mister," Fred scolded, only half-serious. "How're things looking on your end, Vixen?"

"All clear, sir," she replied promptly. The _Quickdraw_ kept to its place in the formation, cruising smoothly with the other 'Mechs, despite Nikolai's bustling movements.

Randi looked away from her lancemates, and up to the horizon. Heat danced over the ground, but she could see the silhouette of buildings through the ripples. "There it is—five hundred meters on our ten o'clock," Randi alerted the others.

"Right. I'll give 'em a ring." He switched from the lance frequency to the open channel. "Tower Bravo India One, this is Victor Golf Actual. Victor Golf Lance is approaching Bravo India HQ on bearing Hotel one-six-zero, ETA eight minutes, over."

"Copy, Victor Golf Actual. We have your lance on scope. Welcome to Wyatt, over."

"Thanks, Tower. Requesting docking coordinates, over."

"Coordinates are one-zero-zero-niner, Victor Golf Lance. Dock at bays six through ten, over."

"Wilco, Tower. Victor Golf Actual, over and out."


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the missed update last week, everyone. (Cold season got the better of me.) We now return you to your regularly scheduled Black Wolf._

* * *

Chapter 7

"Ah, Mr. Acosta?" A middle-aged woman in light grey suit approached them and extended a hand towards Fred. "I am Ada Brunner, manager of the Bowie Industries plant here on Wyatt."

Fred shook her hand and smiled. "Just the person I wanted to see. I'd imagine we have a lot to talk about."

"Quite." She nodded, and glanced past him to the 'Mechs lined up in the bays. "What an... _interesting_ lance you have."

Randi walked up beside her partner, with Hank and Nikolai following after her. The _Quickdraw_ pilot stood calm and composed, but their trainee Warrior looked around distractedly.

"Yes, indeed. We only hire the finest MechWarriors and use the best 'Mechs available." Fred smiled, embellishing the truth a little. "We've seen a lot and come out on top. From common thugs to veteran Clanners."

_'Never mind that we didn't exactly _win_ that last one,'_ Randi thought, unhappily. She kept this to herself, and merely listened as Fred spoke.

"Yes, I think your MRBC record speaks for itself. Quite impressive for such a new unit," Brunner agreed. "Now that you're here, I think we should get down to business, yes?"

"Sounds good." He smiled trying to look professional.

"If you will follow me..." The manager turned and walked back into the compound. "Now, I assume that all your questions about nominal operations for this contract have been answered, already, yes?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I would like to discuss with you a matter of the logistics."

"Logistics are good. I'd also like to know what resources we have available during our stay."

"The contract, at present, only provides for normal upkeep and maintenance. However, we are prepared to negotiate further support under extenuating circumstances."

"Alright. So, to the logistics part, then." Fred kept his disappointment concealed.

Brunner stopped as they reached the end of the hall. "I am sure you know that Wyatt is of special interest, due to its location. To bolster defenses, the planetary government has hired a mercenary company," she explained. "Obviously, it is in Bowie's best interest to ensure that our operations do not interfere with theirs."

"Yeah, I'd hate to get shot up by the guys that are helping us."

"I am most glad you agree. I have invited the other mercenary unit here, so that you can make the necessary arrangements to cooperate with one another." Brunner motioned to the room behind her. "Their commanding officer and her second-in-command are waiting in the conference room to speak with you."

"That's good. So far this, has been better organized than our past employers"

She gave him a pleased smile. "We like to conduct our business efficiently, here at Bowie. Now, I will leave you to discuss matters with the other commander. If you or any of your team care to rest, there is a small waiting room just down the hall. Please come by my office when you have finished." With that, Brunner gave them a courteous nod, and turned to leave.

Hank glanced over at Nikolai. "Come on, sugar," she chuckled, heading towards the waiting room. "We'd best go wait while they hash things out with our new friends."

Fred smiled as the two left. "Maybe this will work out after all. Come on, let's head in." He gestured, and opened the door for Randi.

"I think it will." She gave him a little smile and stepped inside. Working with another unit was always a complicated matter, but she was hopeful that this company would be trustworthy allies.

Inside, their government-employed counterparts sat at the table, casually waiting and talking between themselves softly. They looked up as Fred and Randi entered. The woman stood first, adjusting the brown beret she wore, and brushed her short hair back from the collar of her bomber-style jacket.

"_Buenas tardes, ustedes_," she began, with a friendly smile, "I am pleased to..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell to Fred, and a puzzled look clouded her face.

"_Buenas tardes, s__eño__ra_..." Fred looked confused as he noticed the emblem on her beret: a blue shark over three gold stars. "Wait a minute, you're a _Tibur_**_ón_**?"

"S_í_," she replied, and seemed to snap back to the present. "I see you've heard of us. I'm Islera Vega, and this is my XO, Antonio Torres."

Fred scratched the back of his head looking for what to say. "Well, Islera, this is awkward..."

Randi blanched, and tried not to clench her fists. She moved one hand to her hip in what she hoped appeared to be a casual move, preparing to draw her knife should the need arise.

Islera pursed her lips and walked over to them, looking critically at Fred. "Have we met before? You seem familiar."

"Um yeah, we bumped into your guys on Oliver. We didn't get along."

"_Ay_, that was _you?!_" she snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest as she glared.

Randi instantly brought her hand up, holding her hunting knife firmly, and began a slash towards Islera.

The older woman turned before the blow struck, and pressed a boot to Randi's thigh, forcing her back. "Hey! Don't you try that crap on me, _ni__ñ__a._" She glowered at the surprised ex-Clanner. "I'm pissed off, but I'm not interested in picking a fight with you children."

Antonio shook his head and pulled his boss back a little by the arm of her jacket. "Let's calm down, everyone. Now, you." He pointed at Fred. "We didn't get your name."

Fred looked between Torres and Vega carefully. "Fernando Acosta," he said. "This is my XO, Randi Greene."

"_Acosta?_ Wait, wait." Islera shook her head. "Now, I know why you look so familiar! You're Subaltern Acosta's rug-rat!"

"Rug-rat?! I'm his rug-capybara. Wait... That didn't sound more intimidating. Wait! How do you know my father?"

"Alejandro Acosta was my CO when I served in the Taurian Defense Force." She gave him a look of contempt. "It seems that your family resemblance ends with your looks, though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He glared at her.

"Well, I don't think I'd ever find the Subaltern supporting for Davion interests."

Fred had an expression that was a cross between confusion and anger. "I'd never work for the Davions."

"So, instead you just work for their suppliers, like Quikscell."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Federated Suns are the primary buyers of their LRM carriers."

Fred went quiet and planted his hand over his face. "_Ay_..."

Randi just shifted a little, unsure what to say, if anything. By this time, she felt quite confused. She still wasn't sure how she should react to Islera, either. "So..." she began quietly, putting a hand on her partner's shoulder.

He looked over at her, then back to the _Tiburónes_. "Well... You hate the Davions, I hate the Davions... We're on the same rock, defending the same people. Let's just be friends, huh? Right?" Fred smiled a little in hopes of salvaging the situation.

"You were defending Davion interests," Islera pointed out. "Either you're a liar, or an idiot. I don't need either. So, my advice to you, _capybara_, is to stay out of my way." She shoved past him and stalked out of the room.

Torres remained in his chair, and rubbed his temples lightly. "Ah... I apologize for my CO's attitude. She decided to quit smoking this week."

"Another example of my perfect timing," Fred grumbled.

"You didn't exactly help things, you know," muttered the _Tiburón_. "You, too," he said, shifting his gaze to Randi.

She frowned. "Am I supposed to apologize for trying to defend a comrade?"

"No," Torres replied. "But it still didn't help things."

"Okay, sorry," Fred sighed. "Now, can we smooth things out and get to business?"

"Sure," Torres said. "But you know, Islera looked up to your father a lot. From everything she's told me, he was a great MechWarrior and an even better teacher. So, maybe you can see why she's a little upset."

"Just be glad she didn't meet my brother..."

"He's a Davion sympathizer?"

"Worse. He's an accountant."

Torres chuckled lightly and stood. "I'll go try to coax her into talking to you again."

Fred gave an appreciative nod and a somewhat awkward smile. "You believe me, then?"

"_Sí_," the other merc replied, as he walked to the door. "You're not a liar, you're just naïve not to do more research on your employers."

"Thanks." Fred kept the smile as Antonio walked out. Once the man was gone, he sighed and looked at Randi. "Did Quickscell say anything about the Davions?"

"No. Then again, we never asked who their buyers were," she said. Personally, Randi didn't care which company sold what or to whom. She did remember a brief morsel of history from InnerSphere trivids that mentioned the Federated Suns' aggression against the Taurian Concordat. It appeared that the Taurians, at least, had not forgotten the offense.

"Right, well, we're going to have to double-check these things in the future. For now, let's try not to mess up anymore."

"I'm sorry about that," she said. "I guess I should be less... jumpy."

"Oh, no, no," he smiled and rubbed her arm. "I appreciate that you're willing to protect me like that."

She hesitated for a moment, then kissed his cheek lightly.

He smiled and kissed her back. "Everything will work out."

She nodded and took a seat as they waited for the _Tiburónes_ officers to return. After what seemed like a much longer stretch of time than had likely passed, Islera and Antonio returned.

"_Señor_, Acosta, _Señorita_. Greene," she said with a nod to each of them as she took a seat. "Shall we discuss our patrol routes?"

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Since you've been here longer, I imagine you know the terrain and have routes already setup. Right?"

"Correct." Islera pulled back a panel on the table, revealing the controls for the small holotank in the center, and attached a small chip to it. "There's Hartsburg, Earhardt City and Bowie," she said, as a topographical map of the area appeared. The city and factory graphics were both highlighted in yellow. "And this is our current patrol route." As she spoke, a pair of blue dotted lines materialized over the virtual landscape.

"I notice that your patrol is quite far from the Bowie facilities," Randi said, "but you seem quite intent on watching the port at Hartsburg."

"Expecting company?" asked Fred.

Islera glanced at Antonio. "_Posible_," she said with a sigh. "The government has said nothing to us on this, and that is precisely what makes me concerned."

"If an enemy force is planning something, the spaceport is their most likely point of entry."

"Obviously a large attack force would probably attempt a landing either in the spaceport or near it," Antonio said. "A small force might land anywhere, but that is less of a concern to us. The safety and security of the capital is our primary contract objective."

Fred nodded. "So, I imagine that you have quite a force on-planet for just that."

Islera smiled with a sense of pride. "I'm commanding a company on planet. Two lances of BattleMechs, and eight tanks." She paused and smirked. "Two of which are new additions—from Oliver."

Fred smiled, and shrugged his shoulders, playing it safe.

Relaxing a little as her partner leaned back in his chair, Randi looked to Islera. She realized that they had been fortunate on Oliver. If the _Tiburónes'_ full force had been participating in the attacks on Quikscell, she and Fred would have stood no chance. It was a relief that the other mercenaries were now on their side. _'More or less...'_ she mused. "What kind of 'Mechs do you have?"

"Heavies and mediums," answered Antonio.

"The same for us," Randi replied. "If we ever need to support one another, we should have little problem coordinating."

Fred nodded. "We have five 'Mechs of our own. Four... Four and a half, soon to be five. Mostly heavies."

The _Tiburónes_ exchanged slightly confused looks. "When you finish planning your routes," said Antonio, "you can send us the data."

"And I will keep you informed of enemy activity," Islera added. "No one in the Wyatt government wants to list names, but you know as well as I do who the main suspect is."

* * * * *

Once their counterparts from _Los Tiburónes del Toro_ had left, Fred and Randi joined their comrades in the break room. "So, long story short, we're on the same side, but we don't want to get in their way or cause any trouble. Especially you, Kit."

"What now?" he sulked.

"One, your Spanish is probably terrible. Two, the _Shadow Cat_ you pilot is what we used the fight them before." He turned to the _Quickdraw_ pilot. "Hank, how's your Spanish?"

"Not as good as my Hindi," she said, "but I'm conversational."

"That'll do. Like I said, we just need to stay on their good side."

Hank glanced to Randi. "Would one of them happen to be the tall, clean-shaven guy with dark hair I saw earlier?"

"Yes."

The younger woman blushed faintly and smiled. "Heh, I'll definitely try to stay on their good side."

Just as the conversation started to die down, Brunner entered the room, behind her was a man about Fred's height with dirty blond hair. "This is an embarrassment. I apologize, Mr. Acosta, but I forgot to introduce Donnagán Forde. He will be working as a tactical officer for you during your stay here."

Randi, being the closest, shook Forde's hand first and gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile. It was still a little hard for her to appear welcoming to new people, when she spent the first few minutes of any encounter determining whether they were a threat.

Donnagán shook Fred's hand, smiled and spoke with an accent that was new to her. "Hello, everyone. Normally, I'd be doing the shipping logistics for Bowie, but considering my background, I believe I can help."

Brunner piped in to announce her disappearance again. "I must get back to my office, so I will allow you to handle things, Mr. Forde."

Forde rolled his eyes as she left and jerked a thumb back at the woman's retreating form. "She always forgets about me—unless somethin' goes wrong," he said. "Anyway, I'm here to help you with mission logistics, route planning for cargo escort, and I can help coordinate with the _Tiburónes_, if you need."

"Well, that sounds good to me. So what was this about your background?"

Donnagán smirked. "I used to be in the LAAF. Serving the Archon, so to speak," he said. "Worked at Thorin."

Fred looked surprised, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Wait, you were a—"

"Pilot," he answered. "Yeah, I started out as a _Stingray_ driver—"

"My mother was a fighter pilot," Fred interrupted. "Nothing you say will _ever_ impress me."

Donnagán just frowned. "I was _going_ to say, that I was in a _Stingray_ up until I went _night-blind_. After that, I worked on-board an AWACS, until I left the service and came here," he explained. "To get to the point, I'm pretty experienced. So to speak. I'll make sure you get whatever help you need in the field."

Fred looked slightly embarrassed, but carried on quickly. "Um, right. So, maybe you can tell me a little more about why Bowie's so paranoid?"

The tac officer shrugged. "Beats me. I'm not entirely sure why they bothered to hire more security, honestly, let alone a merc unit."

"They must feel that there is some threat to the factory," Randi said.

The former pilot gave her a skeptical look. "This facility has suffered a lot of raids in the past, but those were all from the FWL. Now that the Free Worlds owns this planet, they just slap taxes and export tariffs on us, instead."

"What about the Lyrans?" she asked.

"They're our biggest customer. They're not going to sabotage their own supplier."

"What if it's some kind of under the table deal?" Nikolia asked.

"Com on, Kit, this isn't some stupid trid show like 'Somerset Strikers,'" replied Fred. "You oughtta watch a more realistic 'Mech trid some time—like 'Macross.'"

Donnagán grinned. "Ey, that was a great show."

Nikolai fused his brow. "_Realistic?_ It was a Drac animation about giant aliens and LAMs!"

"And it was damn good. Though I didn't like how they downplayed the _Warhammer_," Fred added. "But enough about that."

"Well," said Forde, "we need to get your patrol routes mapped, and decide training schedules."

"How do you want to arrange patrols, sir?" asked Hank. "I mean, the _Shadow Cat's_ the only 'Mech with an active probe, so it would be the best scout."

"That's a good point. We'll run two shifts. Kit and I can take turns with the _Cat_, and the ladies can keep their own rides."

Randi looked out the window, watching the sun melt below the horizon, and smiled back at Nikolai. "We had better start soon, then. Ready for your first night mission, Kitten?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"So, we're not supposed to encounter anything, right?"

"That is what we are going to find out," Randi replied to the younger pilot as they headed out towards the 'Mechs.

Nikolai nodded. The expression on his face seemed to be a flitting back-and-forth of excitement and apprehension. As they neared their war machines, Harrison waved to them from the top of the _Franken Cat_.

"So, everything shipshape?" Huang asked him, trying to be friendly.

A frown tugged at the corners of the Tech's mouth. "Sure. If it was a ship." Harrison clambered down from the _Shadow Cat_ to the platform beside Nikolai, giving him a critical look. "Hmm, I'm surprised they're lettin' you go out like this."

"Like what?"

Harrison chuckled. "I figured they'd have made you cut that health hazard you got stuck to your skull."

"Health hazard? What's that supposed to mean?" he scoffed, gliding a hand over his ponytail defensively. "My hair is _awesome_."

"Uh-huh," Harrison muttered, unconvinced. He gave Nikolai's ponytail a tug, and watched the teenager wince. "I don't think getting your hair snagged on something while you're trying to escape a burning cockpit is terribly awesome. You ever notice that even the _ladies_ keep their hair short?"

"Uh... I'll think about it. Thanks." He frowned in thought, and tried to tie his hair back in a more controlled way.

"Plus..." the older man added with a laugh, "Ned thought you were a girl, at first."

"What?!"

Harrison burst out laughing and walked off with a parting wave.

Randi shrugged a little, as Nikolai looked over at her, blanching. "He said you were a cute girl," she recalled.

"Yeah..." he muttered, his cheeks red. "I'll seriously consider a cut..." He climbed into the 'Mech quickly to spare himself from further embarrassment.

Randi shook her head and climbed into her _Mad Cat_. She tapped the comm as she powered up the machine. "It's going to get very dark, very quickly. Stay alert, and stick with me, Kit."

"Roger, Randi," he acknowledged as he started up the 'Mech.

"That's 'Black Wolf,'" she replied curtly.

"Right. Roger that, Black Wolf."

She nudged her throttle lightly, and _Nyx_ took a lumbering step forward. Watching the ground, she crept around a small truck and out of the confines of the bay. The weird Wyatt landscape looked burnt in the evening sun, and stars had already begun to appear in the east, dotting the deep dark sky. The terrain was odd, and some of it looked just a bit precarious. Nightfall would make navigating it safely a challenge.

_'Nikolai will learn nothing if he is not pushed. I am going to train him like a sibko cadet whether Fred likes it or not,'_ she thought to herself. She surmised that Fred would probably want to take the young man's training slowly, keeping more in line with his own experience. The Clans, however, treated cadets like iron. Being beaten and fired would break the weak and make the strong ones even stronger. _'If he really does have potential, he's going to have to start living up to it.' _Aloud, she instructed him, "Form up, echelon left."

"Roger," he replied, trotting up to her. "Uh... Do these 'Mechs have night vision?"

She began to give a terse answer, but stopped herself. Dumb questions were, after all, better than dumb mistakes. "No," she told him calmly, "You have a searchlight, though. If that is insufficient, switch to thermal imaging."

It was not long before the sky had grown completely black. There were stars out, but with no moonlight, the only real illumination came from their searchlights. Despite the darkness, Randi trotted through the desert as normal. She watched the path ahead of her carefully, making each of her 'Mech's footfalls sure. Nikolai began to lag, though, prompting an irritated sigh.

"Kit, sitrep." Randi called over the comm, again trying to keep her patience.

"I'm coming. It's just hard to see where I'm going," the younger pilot replied defensively.

"Afraid of the dark?" she quipped.

"Ha," Nikolai scoffed. His 'Mech started to fall behind again as Randi's _Mad Cat_ leapt forward. "Hey, wait up!"

"Keep up, or be left behind!"

The teenager pushed the _Shadow Cat's_ speed as much as he could in the low light, but continued to lag after her. "How do you keep doing that?"

"You know those two pedals on the floor of your cockpit...?"

"Well, yeah, I know _how_ to. But I mean, it's dark out. And..." He sighed. "I've never used jumpjets before."

She brought her 'Mech to a stop, waiting for the _Shadow Cat_ to catch up to her. "How badly do you want to learn?" she asked, twisting so that her OmniMech faced his.

Nikolai brought his smaller machine to a stop in front of the towering _Mad Cat_. "W-well..." He paused to collect himself. "Uh, yeah. Why not? You can show me when the patrol is done."

"I will teach you now."

"N-now?"

"Now, or not at all."

There was another pause, until finally, he gathered his courage. "Okay. Now."

Randi smiled a little to herself, and walked forward a few steps. "Watch me, first," she said, turning her 'Mech perpendicular to the smaller machine. She stomped down on the pedals, and a burst of hot flame rushed from the jumpjets on _Nyx's_ back. The force of the jets shoved her machine up into the air almost twenty meters, before she killed the thrust. Just above the ground, she tapped the jets one more time to cushion her landing.

"So wait, you use the jets to land, too?"

"Ideally, yes," she said. "This 'Mech can jump 120 meters at a time; the _Shadow Cat_ can jump 180 meters. Imagine how hard 45 tons of metal is going to hit the ground after falling from that height."

Nikolai's 'Mech almost seemed to cringe. "That would hurt. Alright, now what?"

"Practice. Jump about twenty or thirty meters, just like I did, then kill your jets, and tap them again as you land," she said. "But first, I want you to stop for a moment and concentrate on your 'Mech."

"What do you mean?"

She frowned a little. Of course, a Spheroid youngster would not know this. "A BattleMech is a weapon. All weapons are an extension of a Warrior's body," she told him, just as the sibko instructors had once told her. "You do not simply control the 'Mech with the throttle and stick, you control it with your own equilibrium. Jumping is one of the most difficult maneuvers to perform in a BattleMech. You have to ensure that it lands on its feet, and that you can keep it balanced. I don't think you would believe how many sibko cadets lose their lives trying to learn how to jump."

There was an audible gulp from the young MechWarrior. "Alright. I understand." A couple moments passed before the 'Mech's jets ignited, but it was a false start. Hardly six meters off the ground, the thrust died, and it fell back to the earth shakily. The 45-tonner torso-twisted, looking around as its pilot collected himself, then took a step back cautiously. A few moments later, it suddenly leapt into the air unsteadily, climbing to about 20 meters before the jets cut and it fell back. At the last second, Nikolai brought the jets online again to cushion his landing.

The 'Mech took a step to catch itself after the landing, and then turned towards _Nyx_. "Oh my god, I did it!"

Randi leaned her 'Mech towards him in a slight "nod" and put some distance between them. "Try it again. This time, use your pedals to steer a little."

"Roger," he replied confidently now. Again, the 'Mech lifted itself into the air and started to lean to the left, first a little bit, then more. Quickly, it snapped right as Nikolai over-corrected. Finally, though, it leveled out as he regained control and came back down. He panted a bit as he spoke over the comm. "Okay... I see what you mean about difficulty. That was too close."

"Find your center of balance," she admonished, "and give it one more try."

"Okay," he said, less eager than before. The 'Mech lifted up to safe altitude and slowly leaned to one side, then the other before the younger MechWarrior brought it back down. Apparently assured with his abilities once more, he added a little half-spin to his landing for flair.

"Theatrics like that belong on a trivid set, not the battlefield," she said tersely. "But otherwise...not bad."

"Sorry. Uh, do you think I've got the hang of it?"

"So far, yes." She trotted back to their previous course, and came to a stop. "Now, for the test. Catch up to me!" With that, she slammed down on the jump jet pedals, taking a straight, but long and high leap up onto a mesa.

The _Shadow Cat_ followed her up the steep slope soon after, and landed by her side. "Yeah, I've got this."

"Good," Randi said, approvingly. She let silence follow, and switched to thermal imaging as she prowled across the top of the mesa. By this time, the moonless night had swallowed most of the world, and their search lights made only the tiniest nick in the darkness.

The _Shadow Cat_ made small hops with its jets onto gradually higher levels, the pilot obviously enjoying his new-found ability. Suddenly, it came to a stop, and Nikolai called over the comm, "The active probe just picked up something!"

"Can you ID it?"

"Uh... The computer says it's two vehicles. A _Swift Wind_ and a _Scorpion_ tank," he replied. "Oh, and bearing— Um..." The _Shadow Cat_ paced back and forth, then hopped up into the air a few meters. "Well, now they're gone, but they _were_ northwest of us"

Randi bit her lip and opened a channel to Donnagán. "Opus, this is Black Wolf. Kitten just got a sensor hit. ID one _Swift Wind_ and one _Scorpion_ tank northwest of our position. Please advise, over."

"Copy, Black Wolf," the controller replied. "We don't have any allied units in the area. Consider the vehicles bandits, and be alert for reinforcements, over."

"Wilco, Opus. Over and out," she said, closing the channel. Then aloud, she hissed a sigh of, "Freebirth..."

"Um, what now?" asked Nikolai.

"Opus tagged those vehicles as bandits. Our primary goal is to capture them and their crew. If that is not possible, then we must do whatever we can to destroy them. It is _imperative_ that they do not escape."

"Roger," he replied, moving the medium Omni down from its rock perch.

"I am assigning the _Swift Wind_ as your target. Focus on it, solely." Even as she spoke, she wondered if it were wise to place that responsibility on the greenest MechWarrior she had ever met. Still, it was the only viable strategy. She would never be able to catch up to the scout car if it fled; the _Shadow Cat's_ speed might at least give Nikolai a chance. "For now, keep the comm chatter down and turn off your searchlight. We will have to ambush them."

The 45-tonner formed up with her 'Mech, and together they leapt across another gorge. Randi feathered her jumpjets as she neared the next mesa, and let the energy of the landing dissipate. Her lancemate attempted to do the same, but the _Shadow Cat_ stumbled a little as it landed. Seeing that he was unhurt, she kept moving.

It was another twenty minutes before Nikolai again spotted the vehicles. Sitting atop a small rise, he informed her quickly, "The _Swift Wind_ is about 1500 m from here, on the other side of that mesa. The _Scorpion's_ not too far away from it." He then throttled up his 'Mech to engage the recon vehicle.

Randi jumped down into the canyon below and began weaving towards the vehicles, moving as quickly as she could. She hoped that their ambush would be successful.

She saw a bright object streak over head on thermal as Nikolai used his jump jets to get close to the recon vehicle. Moments later she heard the hum of large lasers. "Yes! I hit it!" he exclaimed. Then, somewhat sheepishly, he added, "Um... a _too much_ actually."

"Never mind that. Engage the _Scorpion_, and fire at will!" she barked, rocketing up from the canyon. She glanced around as her 'Mech sailed through the air, and spotted their prey as she descended. Randi jerked her _Mad Cat's_ torso left to face it, and fired off both of her ER PPCs. One of the shots scorched the ground, but the other grazed the side of the light vehicle.

The tank fired its cannon at the medium 'Mech, prompting a startled yelp from Nikolai over the comm. When Randi appeared, it lost interest in the fight and tried to flee. Its turret rotated to track her, threatening an attack, though she was well beyond the range of its machine guns. She sprinted forward and began strafing the tank, blasting it again. Her PPC sent a burst of ions pounding into the tread, and ripped it clean from the vehicle.

The tank skidded to a stop, creating a shower of dust and rocks, but hurriedly tried to retaliate. What was left of the turret began to rotate into position but locked before becoming a threat.

Beside Randi, Nikolai appeared with the scar of a cannon shell just next to his cockpit. "Want me to finish them?"

"Hold your fire!" she said quickly. "We want them alive." She switched to the open channel, and jumped closer to the crippled tank. "_Scorpion_ crew, shut down your systems, exit the vehicle, and surrender immediately! Attempt to escape or resist, and we will fire on you."

She watched the tank hatch open, and three tiny, bright yellow forms appeared on thermal. The first two climbed down to the ground, and knelt beside the tank, but the third took a running leap off of the tank hull. The tanker hit the ground and rolled back onto his feet, running full speed.

_'I warned them once,'_ Randi thought, unhappily. She turned down the power on her ER small laser steeply, and took aim at the fleeing man. The beam washed over him briefly, and the man fell to the ground, writhing in pain. At its lowest setting, a small laser did no damage at all to a 'Mech; a person, however, would still suffer instant burns.

"Opus, this is Black Wolf. The _Swift Wind_ has been destroyed, and the _Scorpion_ crew is in our custody."

"Copy that," he replied. "Nice work. I'll send an APC with security to pick them up."

"You may wish to send a paramedic, as well. One of them will require medical treatment."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's notes:_ Thanks to all the regulars, and the new reviewers. I appreciate the feedback, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story and the series! Now, to answer some of the reviews.

_The girl of the dawn:_ Randi's typical attire is a tank top and shorts (or a pair of jeans in cooler weather). She is a military character, bred and born for combat in a very Spartan culture, and her attitudes reflect this. Skirts and heels would be awkward for her, and things like day spas are luxuries she's never been exposed to. If anything, Fred would take _her_ shopping for a wardrobe.

Now, as you asked about the 'Mechs, the _Shadow Cat_ is a pretty simple answer. It's simply an A-configuration, with one ER large laser replaced by an IS large laser. The story behind the _Hellhound_ is a bit more complicated. I hesitate to say too much, because Hellcat will explain the 'Mech's origin and its configuration in his story "Let the Games Begin." I can tell you, however, that it's not the same as a Clan secondline _Conjurer_.

_Duke of York:_ This story updates on Wednesdays (sometimes Thursdays). I try to update weekly.

_Da Big Lizard:_ Character development is an on-going process, and has been occurring throughout the entire story, and the entire "Black Wolf" series. We haven't even reached the half-way mark of this story, so there will be plenty more to come.

* * *

Chapter 9

"What?! What do you mean, you have to take them? I haven't even seen them."

"Regulation dictates that—"

"That I don't care about your regulations. I'm working to protect this site, and I want to know what I'm facing."

Randi slowed as she rounded the corner and grabbed Nikolai by the shoulder to hold him back. A young woman—a junior grade lieutenant by her rank insignia—stood in front of Fred, waiting patiently as he finished his tirade. Randi could tell that he none too interested in hearing the officer's side of things.

The woman sighed a little and gave him a stern look, trying unsuccessfully to command a little more respect from Fred. "I don't think you quite understand the situation here on Wyatt, Mr. Acosta. In any case, I don't give a rat's ass about what you _believe_ you're entitled to, and my superiors certainly don't, either." The mercenary began to speak again, but she cut him off. "The men you captured are POWs of the Free Worlds League, and as such, they are to be remanded to FWLM custody _immediately_. Your stay on this planet is going to be a lot less pleasant if you don't cooperate, and respect our jurisdiction."

Fred was still fuming. "You're going to inform us about the POWs and enemy forces, right? I can't protect you, your flimsy _Vulcans_, and this plant effectively without some information."

"Mr. Acosta, I can sincerely assure you that any data relating to the persons in question, their units, or any hostile forces," the lieutenant said, "will _not_ be relayed to you. This is a strictly need-to-know basis, and you... don't. That's why we hired a _professional_ mercenary unit."

Fred flushed red, but took a deep breath to calm down. "You know that the defense of Wyatt will only work if all the forces on this planet cooperate. I'd highly suggest you reconsider your policy, _lieutenant_ . You're dismissed." Fred waved his hand and turned to leave the room.

The junior officer made her way out the door without another word. She was clearly uninterested in arguing over a matter in which she already held the authority. Fred, however, was left grumbling to himself unhappily about intel and the caliber of the Free World's "professionals." Randi walked forward to meet her partner and put a hand on his shoulder lightly.

He relaxed a little under her touch, and managed a half-smile. "So, how did Kitten do on his first real mission?" he asked, shifting his attention to his crew.

Randi glanced back at Nikolai, who gave her a hopeful look. "Not bad," the ex-Clanner said simply. "We did jumpjet training today."

"A little soon for that, isn't it?"

"I do not see why."

"Come on, Randi, you know how risky that is! Especially in this terrain. I don't want to have to scrape him and the 'Mech off the bottom of a canyon."

"You do not trust me to take care of him?" She frowned. "The Falcons are the ones who push their cadets off of cliffs, not the Wolves."

"Wait, they push them?" Nikolai piped in, startled.

Fred ignored the interruption, and focused on his conversation with Randi. "Well," he said hesitantly, "Nik and the _Shadow Cat_ are still in one piece. How'd he do with the jets, anyway?"

"Satisfactorily," she replied, partly for brevity and partly to avoid inflating the young pilot's ego too much. Then she added, "He needs more practice."

Fred nodded. "Good. I guess that's all for the time being. Those idiots in the militia ran off with our prisoners."

"I noticed." Randi frowned a little in thought. "At least we neutralized the _Swift Wind_." She had always had a disliked enemy scouts; they had a nasty habit of bringing friends.

"Yeah. Hopefully they didn't report anything back during the attack."

"Anyway, I'll show you our room. We need to get some rest for tomorrow's security training." Fred took her hand and started to lead Randi down the hall.

Nikolai interrupted again. "What about my room?"

"Find Ned and ask him where it is," Fred said, tiredly. "You're all sharing a room."

The younger MechWarrior looked horrified. "Sir, can I please, _please_ have my own room?"

"Only if you're going to pay for it. Now, get to your quarters," Fred huffed. He put an arm around Randi's waist and led her down the hall into their room.

She looked around as they entered, quickly taking stock of their quarters. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but it looked comfortable enough. "You have unpacked already," she said, noting the empty suitcases. "Thank you."

"It was no trouble." Fred shrugged.

She blushed a little as he kissed her cheek lightly, then smiled. Turning towards him, she leaned forward and kissed his lips, slowly at first, and then a little deeper. Fred kissed back deeply, holding her close. Suddenly, though, he let go and stepped back to change his clothes. "I'd best get ready for my patrol shift."

"Oh." She had forgotten that he had to leave, and felt her heart sink as she was reminded. Randi forced a smile as he looked back at her. "I will see you later, then."

"I think if we get any prisoners this time, we won't inform the militia right away." He smiled back, chuckling, and blew her a kiss. "I'll be back soon."

Again she smiled, and then waved briefly as he pulled on his boots and trotted out the door. As soon as he was gone, she let the smile disintegrate, and flopped down on the bed. It was much colder and more uncomfortable than she expected.

* * * * *

Randi yawned as she woke and began to stretch, when she felt something heavy against her shoulder. She turned quickly, surprised, only to see that it was Fred. He was still fast asleep, with his head on her shoulder, and one arm draped over her tummy.

Feeling her stir, Fred woke up, as well. "G'morning, dear. Sleep well?" He smiled and kissed her cheek lightly.

"I... suppose I must have," she said. Then to herself, _'Considering that I didn't notice him come in.'_ "And you?"

"Like a log." He chuckled. "The patrol was long and boring. It looks like you scared off who ever was out there."

"That is good news." She relaxed again and turned onto her side, facing him. "So, we only have the training today?"

"That and some free time. I was thinking of heading into town after we're done."

"Alright." It was difficult to be enthusiastic about the day's activities, even with the promise of free time later. Training was not fun. Training industrial rent-a-cops was even less fun. She couldn't understand what would possess some people to make a career out of that sort of thing.

Fred rolled out of bed and began to get dressed. "Today is going to be kind of slow, but I think I have a way to make it more interesting later." He grinned mischievously.

Randi just gave him a curious look and followed suit. As soon as they finished breakfast, the pair headed to one of the complex's loading bays. This one had been cleared out for use as a training yard, since working outside was impractical. By the time they arrived, all of the rookie security guards were waiting in the bay. Hank and Nikolai stood near the door.

As he walked out onto the loading dock, Fred called for everyone's attention with a sharp whistle. "Morning, everyone. I am Fernando Acosta of the Vigilante Guard, and we are here to conduct your training. Any questions?"

The security personnel looked around, some muttering amongst themselves. A young man in the back row raised his hand. "Ah, yeah. Are we gonna be done in time for 'CSI: Solaris'?"

Fred gave an annoyed look and shook his head. "No, but if we hurry, you can catch 'As the Sphere Turns.' Now, any less _stupid_ questions?"

This time, everyone was silent.

"Alright then. Let's start with some stretches."

Randi lifted one foot, taking hold of that ankle to do a quadriceps stretch, and looked over at her partner. Nikolai aped her, while Hank started with a shoulder strangle. Fred did a few quick stretches, then hopped down from the loading dock to the floor.

"Everyone warmed up? Good. We're just going to cover some basics today. We'll start off with laps, and then do some dashes," he instructed, and began jogging.

As the group trotted along, Fred slowed down to match pace with Nikolai, who was lagging behind. "Your hair weighing you down, Kitten?" Fred ribbed. "Try to keep up."

"I'm... just a little out of practice," he said defensively, and sprinted ahead to jog by himself.

"That kid needs to learn how to take a joke," muttered Fred, as he rejoined the rest of the lance.

Hank chuckled a little and shook her head. "Ah, give 'im a break, sir. Most people take everything pretty seriously when they're that age."

"I don't remember being that annoying when I was his age."

"Of course, sir." She chuckled. "He'll probably outgrow it, y'know? My brothers all did. Well, except the youngest one, but I'm still hopeful."

"Yeah, I guess so," Fred conceded. "I do remember that living with my brother was always troublesome."

"What about you, Randi?" Hank asked. "Any annoying siblings?"

She stopped for a half second, then picked up that pace again. "You have no idea..." she muttered, rubbing the scarred bridge of her nose reflexively.

"Oh, random subject change," Fred interjected. "Donnagán told me about a great bar in town. Want to go later? Ned and Harrison are gonna meet us there."

Hank nodded. "Sounds fun!"

"Sure," Randi replied.

Nikolai slowed down to rejoin the others. "A bar? Awesome!"

"No, Kit, they won't let you in," Fred reminded him.

"What? Then what am I supposed to do?"

Fred thought for a moment. "You can clean the _Shadow Cat_."

* * * * *

"Welcome to 'The Jungle'!" said a cheery waitress, as the party stepped into the bar.

Randi looked around curiously at the interior of the place. There were large planters filled with lush foliage, and moss and air plants of a sort hanging from the rafters. In the center of the room, a small fountain bubbled. It was an oasis in the Wyatt desert.

"Are you all together, or are you here with the others?" the waitress continued.

"Others?" asked Ned, weaving past Harrison and a short palm tree.

"Yeah. There's a big reservation for _Los_... Uh, _Los Tamales_ something," the waitress said.

Fred looked thoughtful, and a bit hesitant, but was interrupted just as he began to speak.

"_¡__Capybara! ¡__Vengan aquí!_"

The group looked over to see Islera and Antonio sitting at the bar, the former waving them over. There were two other men sitting next to them, and a small group at one of the tables, some wearing the same burgundy jacket as their commander.

"Yeah, we're with them." Fred's expression lit up as he lead his group over to join their allies. "_¿_Hey_, que pasa?_"

"_Pasa nada, ahora,_" she replied, taking a sip of her beer. "_Hubiera un cierto apuro, anterior._"

"_¿Qué apuro?_" said Antonio with a laugh. "_No era nada._"

Randi gave Fred a light nudge, as they and the others sat down at the bar. "English?" she whispered.

"_¿Inglés, __por favor?_" he asked. Then to Randi, he whispered, "She said they had trouble earlier, but Antonio says it was nothing."

"Ah, just some _imbéciles_ in light 'Mechs," Islera continued.

Hank leaned in to join the conversation. "What kind of force was it?"

"A pair of _Stingers_, a _Sentinel_, and an _Assassin_," Antonio answered. "We made short work of the _Stingers_, but the other two lost us in the canyon. Our Skirmisher lance is out looking for them, now."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm sure you'll get them."

Ned leaned over to Hank. "Hey, didn't you want to talk to me about your _Quickdraw_? Something you wanted me to look at?"

"I did?" Hank chewed her lip lightly. "I don't think there's anything on it that needs work..."

"Oh. Well, you know, I'll check it out, just in case."

"Um, thanks..." She turned and gave Randi a shrug, then motioned to the bar tender. "Speaking of _Stingers_, I'll take one."

Randi could only wonder why Ned was suddenly so preoccupied with the _Quickdraw_. From the corner of her eye, though, she saw him looking at Hank. _'Maybe it is not the 'Mech that interests him.'_

"Now, I bet you got to keep your prisoners," Fred muttered to the other mercenaries.

"Not really. Both guys were sent to the hospital, first thing. This thin air probably messed them up a bit," Islera replied. "Why do you ask?"

"The militia ran off with our prisoners."

"We spotted a _Swift Wind_ and a _Scorpion_ tank during patrol yesterday," Randi explained. "We captured the tank crew, but the militia swooped in and took them before we could begin interrogations."

"Where were they?" asked Antonio.

"We were in grid 1-4-1-5, when we spotted them."

"_Ay, Dios mio..._ That's not where we expected them to be," he said, lowering his voice.

"And who is _them_?" asked Fred suspiciously.

"Elsies," Islera muttered under her breath. "Their 'Mechs weren't marked, but their uniforms were."

"I guess they want their planet back..."

The other mercenary nodded. "Yeah. But right now, we're here to unwind. We can deal with the Bankers later. So, _¡__salud!_"

Fred grinned. "Sounds good to me. Bartender, give me a Timbiqui Dark."

"The same," Randi requested.

"So, this is your whole crew?" asked Islera. She leaned back a bit, and waved to Donnagán at the other end of the bar. "_H__ó__la_, Don."

The logistics officer tipped his glass to her in return.

"Yeah, this is almost everyone," Fred replied with a chuckle. "We left our 'ace' back at the hangar."

She gave him a quizzical look, and took another drink. "Well, as Antonio said, our medium lance is out hunting. This is Jordão and Sev, our other Command Lance pilots," she said, motioning to the two men beside Antonio. "You'll have to excuse them for being a little quiet. Neither of them speak English. Oh, and Antón, our tank company leader, and his _Rommel_ crew are over there at the billiards."

"So, what do y'all pilot?" Hank asked Antonio. Ned looked somewhat bereft as she turned away from him.

"A custom _Catapult_ C1. Well, it used to be a C1." He chuckled. "It now has Artemis IV, CASE, an extra ton of ammo, and that's just the start of it."

"Sounds like a great fire support configuration."

"Sure, but it's just as good up close. I once punched a guy—with both arms."

"Punched?" Randi murmured, as she accepted her drink. _'I wish I had known _Catapults_ could do that, when I was piloting one...'_

"Yep. That was a lucky day. Anyway, what do you pilot, Miss..? Um, I don't believe I got your name."

"Oh!" She blushed again, and giggled a little. "Henrietta."

"But don't you go by Ha—?" Ned began.

"I pilot a _Quickdraw_ 4-G," she continued swiftly, cutting him off. "It's had a few modifications. Took out a couple heat sinks and a laser, added some ammo and CASE..."

"A _Quickdraw_? How long have you been piloting it?" Antonio asked with a hint of concern.

"About five years." She chuckled. "I know the 'Mech doesn't have a great reputation, but it's served me well. I inherited it from my dad, actually."

"You must be a pretty good pilot, then."

She chuckled and smiled back. "Oh, now you're flattering me."

Antonio laughed. "Should I stop? So, I bet those jump jets come in handy, huh? They've gotten me out of many close scrapes."

"Same," she agreed. "Once, my lancemate and I were being chased through a city by an _Orion_. We turned down a dead end, and let the _Orion_ think it had us pinned. As soon as it entered the street, I jumped behind it and hit it with all of my short-range weapons."

"Impressive. Reminds me of the time I brawled with an _Axman_. This guy sneaked up on me while I was providing support for Islera and Jordão. The axe just barely missed me. I was able to use my jets to stay just out of range of its axe, while I kept hitting it with my lasers." Antonio chuckled when he saw Islera roll her eyes at his story. "When Islera finally arrived to my rescue, the _Axman_ was a smoking wreck."

"Now, now, Antonio. Remember, I was taking on a _Caesar_ and a _Grasshopper_, and Jordão was dueling a _Flashman_. We figured you could handle the _Axman_ while we cleaned up," Islera said with a smirk. She turned to Fred. "What about you, kid? Got any good stories for us?"

"You bet I do." Fred grinned. "Let me tell you about one of my battles on Solaris 7..."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Randi looked down into the take-out box and then to the pair of chopsticks in her hand. "I have no idea how to use these," she said sheepishly.

"Mmph," Fred finished a mouthful of noodles and handed her a fork. "Heh, a lot of people can't."

She accepted the cutlery, and started on her own meal. "Tasty," she said, approvingly. "How do they get so much... flavor into these things? And this sauce. What's the sauce? I like it."

Fred shrugged. "Awesome sauce. There's probably a variety of spices for flavoring."

She took another bite and nodded. After years of subsisting on the bland foodstuffs the Clan served, spices were a most welcome change to her diet. "You know, it wasn't until I met you that I started dining out," she said, twirling her fork in the noodles thoughtfully. "There are a lot of things I never did until I met you."

"Well, it's a good thing we met." He smiled and watched her. "Life is an adventure, whether we like it or not," he said with a chuckle.

"I like it considerably more, nowadays."

"I think I do, too."

As she returned the smile, she noticed the clock behind him. _'Damned thing,'_ she thought grumpily. The infernal thing had been her torment for the past two weeks. It seemed that if she wasn't waiting for Fred, she was watching him leave. Now, unfortunately, it was her turn to rush out the door. She finished her noodles quickly and stood, setting her take-out box and flatware aside.

"I have to leave," she sighed.

"I'll see you later," he said, with a slight sigh of his own.

Randi nodded and slipped out the door. The long hours on patrol did not bother her. Clan Warriors were bred to tolerate the uncomfortable conditions of a 'Mech cockpit for extended periods. What bothered her was how little time she had to spend with Fred lately. The corners of her mouth jerked into a sad sort of half-smile. She could not recall ever _missing_ anyone before.

"Hey, be careful with that!"

Randi stopped in her tracks and looked around curiously. She moved a little closer to the wall and crept around the corner. As she peered into the lobby, she was relieved to find that nothing illicit or lethal was occurring.

Nikolai sat in a chair, while Hank stood behind him with a pair of scissors in one hand and the other resting on his head to keep him still.

"Oh, quit your fidgeting," she scolded. "I've done this a hundred times. I promise you, I've never so much as lopped off anyone's ear. Now, are you really sure about this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I mean, I don't want to. But ya know, I don't want my hair to get in the way when I pilot." The teenager sighed.

Hank gave him a reassuring smile. "Okay. Now, hold still, you fussbudget." There was a quick snicker-snack, and his ponytail was gone.

Nikolai looked slightly distraught after feeling through what was left of his hair. "Thanks," he said, trying to manage a smile.

"Don't worry so much. If you're not happy with having it short, it'll grow back. Eventually."

"Yeah," he said with another sigh.

Randi stepped forward. "Are you done mourning?" she quipped.

Hank gave a little shrug. "He does have nice hair."

"Well, it is time to leave. We need to start our patrol."

Nikolai picked up his neuro-helmet and left the room with a huff.

The female pilot shot Randi as near to a reproachful look as a subordinate had ever given her. "You guys are awfully hard on the poor kid."

"What do you mean?" Randi muttered. She felt a little confused how to react. In the past, she had always dealt with challenges to her authority in the same manner: a Circle of Equals. She didn't particularly want to fight Hank, nor was she sure this was a real challenge. In fact, she wasn't at all sure what this was about.

The other woman frowned and sat down in one of the chairs. Whether she knew it or not, that action instantly pacified the ex-Clanner somewhat. Hank would not have taken a seat if she wanted a confrontation.

"He's only seventeen," she said, "and he's a very long way from home. I don't know what things were like for you as a new MechWarrior, but being a rookie in the Savannah Irregulars really sucked." She propped her feet up on the table nearby and picked up a magazine, letting the matter rest.

Randi, still slightly confused, just walked out to her OmniMech.

* * * * *

The desert appeared to be just as empty today as it had been since their initial encounter with the presumably Lyran vehicles. There seemed to be no living presence in the labyrinth of weird geography. While there was nothing to hunt, Wyatt was hardly a boring place. Many of its rock formations were precarious at best, and downright lethal-looking at worst. Loose boulders kept tumbling down from the canyon walls as they passed through the chasm silently.

Randi glanced to the _Shadow Cat's_ image on her screen. Nikolai had been very quiet on this mission. "Hey," she said, finally. "Follow me. I want to get out of this canyon."

"Um, okay," Nikolai replied quietly.

Randi came to a stop, then stomped down on both of the 'Mech's floor pedals. _Nyx_ soared straight up into the air to nearly half of the 'Mech's jumping range. As it cleared the lip of the canyon wall, she pressed down on the right pedal to guide the machine over the solid plateau.

Nikolai jumped after her, trying to keep up, but maintained his distance to prevent a midair collision.

"We are going to practice some more jumps," she said, turning back towards the maw of the canyon. With a quick trot forward, she hit her jumpjets again and leaped across to the other side.

"Alright. I can do this." Nikolai quickly imitated her movements.

She smiled a little as she watched him. Randi felt a small sense of pride in having taught him these maneuvers. It was actually more satisfying, though, to see him make the jump correctly. Over the week, he had been diligent to follow her wherever she went on the field, no matter how far or high the jump.

"Good," she said simply, finally deciding to give him a little praise.

"Thanks," Nikolai replied, sounding a little cheerier.

"Go to the ridge ahead of us and survey the area with your active probe," she said.

"Roger, Black Wolf." The smaller 'Mech trotted up to the ridge and began scanning the surrounding area.

"Opus to Black Wolf," Donnagán suddenly called over the comm. "Return immediately! Lance of enemy 'Mechs approaching Bravo India complex. Intercept any bandits en route."

"Roger, Opus. Kitten and I are en route. ETA, ten minutes," she replied, whirling her 'Mech around. Randi pushed the _Mad Cat's_ throttle to its limit. "Kit!" she barked to her lancemate. "Form up, and watch your scope. We have been recalled." With that order given, she continued speaking to Donnagán. "Opus, requesting additional information."

"Enemy lance consists of two lights and two mediums. They're heading straight for the warehouse," Donnagán reported.

"Mayhem, here. Vixen and I are on it. Don't take too long, Black Wolf, or you'll miss the party," Fred joked.

"Copy, Mayhem," she replied evenly, though her heart skipped a beat. A lance like that would likely be no problem to dispatch, but there was the possibility that it was only the first wave. _'Freebirth,'_ she cursed.

"What's going on?" Nikolai cut in.

"It's a raid," Randi hissed through her teeth. "The—"

"All Victor Golf units, be advised radio chatter indicates that an additional hostile force is moving against the militia near Earhardt City. No confirmation on the bandits' origin," Donnagán interrupted.

_'Of course,'_ Randi thought. _'They are trying to cause confusion by hitting two targets at once. Supporting the militia will have to fall to the Tiburónes, though.'_

"Um, permission to advance, Black Wolf?" Nikolai asked. "My 'Mech _is_ faster."

Randi bit her lip lightly, mulling the decision over in her head for the few seconds she could spare. "Permission granted," she said. "If you encounter any additional bogies, report and retreat to my position."

"Roger," he reported, already running past her. As the young pilot reached the edge of the plateau, she was surprised to see him take a running leap off the cliff. His 'Mech fell for just an instant before shooting forward on its jump jets to reach the mesa ahead of him.

She spared a brief chuckle as he disappeared over the next cliff and out of sight, then continued running and leaping after him as fast as the _Mad Cat_ was capable. Ahead, she could see the ramparts that surrounded Bowie's factory buildings and warehouse. The walls only served as a minor deterrent to invading 'Mechs, but then, the same was true of most defensive structures. She slowed _Nyx_ to a stop as she reached the edge of the cliff, and peered down to the stretch of flat ground leading up to the smashed main gate.

She took just a second to survey the scene below, trying to find where she was needed most. From her vantage point on the ledge, she could see all three of her lancemates, bathed in the glow of floodlights as they dealt with the enemy 'Mechs. A series of ruby spears caught her attention as the _Quickdraw_ grappled with a _Javelin_. In desperation, the smaller 'Mech fired a barrage of medium lasers, melting away armor and burning through the night sky. A single green beam from Nikolai's _Shadow Cat_ severed the _Javelin's_ arm, allowing Hank to break the clinch. She turned and slugged the lighter 'Mech, blistering armor shards from its side torso as she jumped back from it.

Missiles and lasers fire flew past Fred's _Dragon_ as it charged at a _Stinger_. There was a loud crash as the 60-ton Battlemech's left arm smashed clean through the center torso of the lighter 'Mech. A huge chunk of metal burst from its back and flew nearly fifty meters across the plain. The light 'Mech fell limp in an instant, dropping to the ground like a broken toy, while the _Dragon_ trotted onward.

As she jumped up from the cliff, Randi spotted a _Sentinel_ lurking among the factory buildings. She quickly brought her targeting reticule down over the 40-ton 'Mech, and gave it a taste of her ER PPCs. The ion blasts ravaged its SRM rack and small laser, but the _Sentinel_ replied with a bark of its autocannon. A singe round stabbed Randi's OmniMech in the torso with a loud clang, but it would take far more than that to discourage her. Nikolai blitzed her target with a flurry of his SRMs as he rushed past it. One of the missiles hit in spite of his unfocused aim; it did little damage but startled the raider.

"Kit, watch for the _Assassin_!" Fred shouted as a strobing red beam danced across the _Shadow Cat's_ legs. He fired on the 40-tonner with his LBX-5, forcing it to run, while the younger pilot recovered.

The _Shadow Cat_ turned swiftly, incensed by the attack, and chased after the lighter 'Mech. Randi could see something different in him as he pursued the _Assassin_. There was a single-mindedness in the _Cat's_ movements that he had never shown before—a thirst for the hunt. At first his shots were wild, but the lasers eventually honed in on the _Assassin's_ right arm, melting it to slag. Both medium 'Mechs reached their maximum throttle, and disappeared past the ramparts into the darkness.

Just as Randi moved to pursue the _Sentinel_ again, Hank's _Quickdraw_ landed in front of her. Almost instantly, the 'Mech took off again with a burst of its jumpjets, and perched on a nearby building. Its medium lasers sailed over the _Mad Cat's_ missile racks, ripping at the _Javelin_ fiercely. Despite the woman's easy-going nature, she was all business on the field.

The light 'Mech leapt after her, eager to take advantage of a wound in the _Quickdraw's_ torso armor. The moment it alighted on the building next to her, however, she charged it. The _Javelin_, surprised by the brash move, fired wildly. That did nothing to save it, however, as the _Quickdraw_ brought up its hands and bodily shoved the 30-tonner off of the roof. With too little warning to apply its jumpjets, the _Javelin_ flailed and hit the ground hard, landing on its back awkwardly. Hank followed up by unleashing a hail of SRMs on the prone 'Mech.

A pair of lasers from the _Dragon_ lanced out to melt armor from hopeless _Sentinel_ as Fred darted past. "I'm gonna follow Kitten," his voice crackled over the comm. "Have to make sure he doesn't go too far."

"Roger, Mayhem."

Randi focused her attention on the limping _Sentinel_, and began to circle around it. The 'Mech twisted to face her, desperately firing off shot of its AC/5. She took a few steps back, tracking the enemy's pained movements closely. She lined up her crosshairs and fired both PPCs into its legs, ripping the weaker limb apart. The _Sentinel_ crashed face-first into the sand, and struggled to move. Finally, it lay still and the access hatch on the 'Mech's domed torso popped open, spilling a soldier onto the dirt.

She again made use of her small laser, firing a couple shots at the ground near the MechWarrior in warning. "Put your hands behind your head and lay down on the ground," she commanded over the external speaker. This pilot seemed to take the orders much more seriously than the tank crew, and complied.

Hank's voice drifted over the radio. "I think the _Javelin_ pilot blacked out," she said, crouching near the aforementioned 'Mech. The _Quickdraw_ then stood and walked over to join her, being careful to give the downed _Sentinel_ a wide berth.

"Black Wolf, the _Assassin_ got away, though just barely. Kit and I are on our way back."

"Copy. The _Sentinel_ is finished. Shall I inform Opus?"

"Yeah. Just tell him not to call the militia, yet. What's the salvage look like?"

"The _Javelin_ looks to be in mostly one piece," Hank reported. "I think the _Stinger_ would make a nice paper-weight."

"Are there any hands on the battlefield? I think the _Dragon_ could use one," Fred affirmed.

Randi busied herself relaying the outcome of their battle to Donnagán, while the _Quickdraw_ looked around swiftly. The 60-tonner wandered a bit, then trotted over to where the _Javelin's_ severed arm lay. Hank picked it up and brought it to the approaching _Dragon_ for Fred's inspection. "This one okay, sir?" she asked.

"I think it'll do, for now."

Nikolai twisted his 'Mech's torso to look back at the gate. "I should've had that _Assassin_. I shot it in the _head,_" he grumbled.

"Well, I think our biggest concern right now, is what it made off with. It had something in its hand..."

Donnagán reported in, suddenly. "We've got a problem, everyone. When I called for pick up, the motor-pool reported that there's a flatbed missing, and the security officers there were found unconscious. Patrol the area and report anything suspicious."

Randi looked back at Fred, as the _Dragon_ turned to begin scouting. "Damn it," he muttered.


	11. Chapter 11

_Notes: I'd like to thank everyone for their patience, and apologize for the sudden two-week hiatus. Work has been rather frantic lately. Regular updates should resume, now._

* * *

Chapter 11

Randi brought her _Mad Cat_ to a stop and cracked the cockpit open as the _Dragon_ trotted up to meet her. The cold night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy air inside the 'Mech. She waved to her partner and tapped the comm. "Find anything?"

"Nada," he muttered. "You?"

"No." The desert had quickly engulfed any trace of the stolen vehicles in its shifting sands. She looked up at the stars, noting how far the unfamiliar constellations had turned since dusk.

There was a groan of actuators as Fred brought his BattleMech within a stone's throw of hers. He opened the _Dragon's_ cockpit, and leaned forward, propping his elbows on an empty part of the console. Glancing back at her, he smirked and blew her a kiss.

Randi just blushed and smiled back a little.

"I think we should call it a night," he said. "Maybe tomorrow we can get some info out of the MechWarriors we captured."

She nodded, then suddenly found herself gasping a little for breath.

"Randi?" Fred asked, concerned.

"I- I'm fine," she wheezed. She leaned back and took a deep, slow breath, then closed the cockpit. There was an odd squish sound as the atmospheric seal engaged. "I forgot," she said, tapping the comm, "how thin the air is."

Fred nodded and closed the _Dragon's_ cockpit as well. "Hm. I guess that means that wherever our saboteurs went, they drove. I don't think they would get very far on foot." He turned his 'Mech slowly as she moved _Nyx_ forward. "Vixen and Kitten just reported in. They didn't have any better luck."

* * * * *

"This is just splendid," muttered Donnagán, after Fred had given his report. "These damned loyalists have made a bloody mess of everything, now..."

Fred gave him a quizzical look. "But, uh, aren't _you_ an El— I mean, Lyran?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't put me in the same camp as these idiots," the tac officer grumbled. He glanced around, and, noting that there were no other Bowie employees present, turned back to Fred. "Personally, I wouldn't mind Wyatt being back in Alliance hands, sure. I don't intend to screw up things up for my colleagues and employer to try and make that happen, though. That raid last night cost the company thousands of C-Bills in damages, not to mention the cost of the stolen products!"

The mercenaries exchanged hesitant glances. Quiet until now, Nikolai suddenly leaned forward. "You're pretty cool about all this. I mean, your planet being conquered by the Free Worlds," he said, somewhat sceptically.

The comment seemed the catch Donnagán a bit off guard. He sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah... Much as I hate to admit it, things aren't too different under the League. Earlier curfew. Lot more purple in the government buildings..."

"So... You really don't care?"

Donnagán gave a resigned shrug. "I wouldn't really say that, just so long as I keep my job here."

Fred sat down and put his feet up on the table. "Doesn't seem like the Lyrans want that."

Hank cut in. "I still can't figure out why they would attack us, when they could be fighting in Earhardt City."

"I don't know. The Alliance already buys 'Mechs from Bowie, so there's no point in making a raid. Hell, if they asked nicely, Brunner might just _give_ them what they want and call it a reward for customer loyalty." Donnagán leaned back and groaned in frustration. "They did a lot of unnecessary damage, too."

"Did you do something to piss them off?" Fred asked.

"If you have been selling 'Mechs and components to the Free Worlds, they may consider you to be aiding the enemy," suggested Randi.

"But we _haven't_," Donnagán said. "The League gets its _Archers_ from another company. And all our other plants are in Lyran territory, so Bowie Industries sells exclusively to the Alliance."

Hank spoke up next. "Do you have any competitors?"

He shrugged. "I don't think so. Unless this is some damned marketing stunt."

"Well, the important thing right now is ensuring that the Lyrans do no more damage to the factory," Randi said. "We should—"

"Don!" a man yelped, as he burst through the conference room door. "They took Earhardt!" he exclaimed, fumbling at the tri-vid controls.

"Ah, dammit," Donnagán muttered in response. "You know they're going to screw up our shipments now." The tri-vid showed a freeway full of refugee vehicles heading in the direction of Hartsburg.

"The hell, man?" the other Bowie employee scoffed. "They just took over the city! My sister and her kids live there. What if they're hurt?"

A young woman appeared against the backdrop of slate-grey industrial buildings. "This is Anita Petrova coming to you live from the outskirts of Earhardt City. Just hours ago, a Lyran force suddenly appeared outside the city to the surprise of everyone on Wyatt. Immediately, the planet's militia and government-contracted mercenaries, _Los Tiburónes del Toro_, engaged the Lyrans. Shortly into the fight, however, the mercenaries retreated from the field, leaving the militia's single lance of 'Mechs to fight the Lyrans alone. Now, after hours of bloody fighting, the Lyrans have completely destroyed the militia 'Mechs and laid claim to Earhardt City. Collateral damage has been minimal, but refugees are still leaving the city in droves, to seek safety at Hartsburg."

"Retreated? That's bull. Sure, the _Tiburónes_ hit and run, but they don't retreat from a fight," Fred fumed. "This news network is nothing but shenanigans and skulduggery."

Confused by the archaic vocabulary, Randi just muttered a very flat, "What."

"Yeah, it gets the ratings up. Everyone loves to watch a good planetary invasion, am I right?" Donnagán said apathetically. He looked up at his colleague. "Why don't you take off early, Jim. I've got things covered."

"Thanks," he said with a nod, biting his lip. Jim gave a brief, appreciative wave and hurried out the door.

"How come _we_ aren't fighting in Earhardt?" Nikolai asked quizzically, once the man had left. "Shouldn't we be helping the militia?"

"Why?" Randi responded. "They are not offering us any compensation to do so."

"So, what? Isn't it the right thing to do? And, I mean, isn't this the Vigilante Guard?" He stood up, looking for an approving response from the others, and Fred in particular.

"Kit," Fred began, "It's not that easy. We all have our ideals, but we can't let that get in the way of our job. I can't afford to go out there and risk getting shot up without something in return. Trust me, it just... doesn't work like that." Nikolai was about to rebut, but Fred interrupted. "We're not getting involved unless we have a damned good reason, that's final."

Nikolai looked over to Hank, hoping for support. "We're mercenaries," she said with a shrug. "Loyalty to the highest bidder."

"Can't we at least help the civilians or something?"

Fred shook his head.

"The best help we can give them at the moment is to leave them alone," Hank said gently. "The Lyrans aren't going to hurt civilians intentionally but might attack _us_ if we get too close to the city. The refugees could get caught in the crossfire."

Nikolai stared at each one of them with a mixed expression of confusion and anger before stalking out of the room.

Randi furrowed her brow a little as she watched him leave. _'Why is he getting so upset about this? It is not his fight.'_

"He's got a lot to learn," Fred sighed.

Before the mercenaries could resume their earlier conversation, Brunner's voice interrupted them. "Mister Acosta, I would like to speak to you and your XO for a moment in my office."

He groaned as he got up. "What is it?"

"It's a place where you work," she replied tersely. "Please, just meet me as soon as you can."

The two MechWarriors stood, and Fred led the way into their employers office. "What's the news on the situation?"

The corporate official paced back and forth across the floor of her office, fuming. "I just finished a conversation with the head of the Lyran forces here. And do you know what he is saying to me?"

"'We're here to liberate you'?"

She stopped and glowered. "He threatened Bowie Industries!" Brunner paced over to a filing cabinet and began to rifle through the draws. "Imagine the gall he has! We have done our best to remain neutral in this conflict, even after their shameful raid on our factory. It is not enough that they steal from us, now they want protection money." She handed a file folder to Fred and took a seat at her desk.

"Kallon Industries?" he asked curiously.

"Hauptmann Nowak told me that if we cannot beat 'a competitor's' offer, he will raze the factory to the ground. Those Kallon bastards must have bribed them to destroy our factory in the invasion."

"I take it you won't beat their offer?"

"For one thing," Brunner fumed, "I refuse to be bullied this way. For another thing, I cannot make payments even if I wished. The Lyrans have somehow taken the HPG offline for the time. I have no way to contact the company headquarters for the funds we would need."

"It seems then," Randi spoke up, "that an alliance with the Free Worlds militia and the _Tiburónes_ is our best option. If we coordinate with them, we may be able to beat back the Lyrans."

"In the meantime, I'll have Hank and Kit defend the facilities. Brunner, can we make contact with the _Tiburónes_?"

"Yes. Yes, I think this would be prudent. I will contact the militia myself. Donnagán can help you coordinate with the other mercenaries."

The two MechWarriors nodded and took their leave, then. Randi bit her lip lightly in thought. She knew that tomorrow was going to bring more than its share of trouble. _'Hank is competent, and Nikolai is learning quickly, but I wonder if our unit is solid enough for a bigger fight. The Lyrans won't pull any punches when they see us again.'_

"Hey," Fred started, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you head back to our room and get some rest while I talk to Donnagán. I'll just be a minute."

"Alright," she agreed. Randi watched for a moment as he trotted off down the hall, then turned and walked back to their room. Passing the break room, she saw Ned, Harrison, and Nikolai watching the trivid, rapt, as news footage of the militia's earlier battle played. She paused for a moment to catch a glimpse of it, herself. It was little more than a slaughter as the blue Lyran units mowed down the militia machines with a flurry of lasers and ordnance. One of the _Vulcans_ burst apart as fire from seemingly every direction ripped into its armor and metal guts.

Just as she turned away, as she noticed Fred catching up with her. "We were able to get in contact with them," he said, as she slowed to wait for him, "but they said they couldn't free up any units to help us at the time."

"I suspected as much," she replied. "They must have their entire force committed to the defense of Hartsburg. That's why the militia sent them off."

Fred nodded in agreement, and put an arm around her waist as they reached their room. "Don't worry, we should be able to fend off anything the Lyrans throw at us from here."

"I hope so."

He smiled at her. "I'm certain."

As much as she appreciated his reassurance, she still felt cautious about the impending engagement. What if the Lyrans overwhelmed them with sheer size or numbers? What if someone panicked? She rubbed her forehead and walked into their room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Fred sat down next to her and began to rub her shoulders caringly. She relaxed a little and smiled back at him, stroking his cheek lightly in return. With a warm smile, he kissed her lovingly, pulling her close.

Randi kissed him back and snuggled closer. "I've missed being with you," she admitted, long past caring how unClan-like it was to say such a thing.

"Me, too," he sighed and hugged her close. "All the more reason to beat back these Lyrans, huh?" he chuckled lightly.

She nodded and kissed his shoulder lightly. He kissed her back and laid down, pulling her with him and wrapping his arms around her. Randi slid her fingers through his hair lightly and smiled, kissing him again happily. Tomorrow's worries could wait.


	12. Chapter 12

Notes: _Thanks to everyone for your patience during the break. Also, I appreciate all the great reviews and critique lately. It really makes my day to hear from everyone, and thoughtful critique always helps me to improve._

* * *

Chapter 12

The comm line in the room rang urgently, waking both Fred and Randi. He the was first out of bed and answered the comm. "They're _where?_ I see. Black Wolf and I will head out." He put down the receiver and turned to face Randi. "The Lyrans are heading this way—and so is what's left of the Wyatt Militia."

Randi sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and fumbled for her clothes. "What happened?"

"The militia was heading towards Bowie when they were caught by the Lyrans. It's just tanks, but the Militia units are in bad shape."

"Do we have a plan?" she asked, hurriedly slipping her clothes on, as she grabbed up her boots and neuro-helmet. "Where are Hank and Nikolai?"

"Plan is to hold off the tanks. Preferably at range." He slipped on his boots. "Hank and Kit will escort the militia." Grabbing his neuro-helmet and vest he was making his way to the door. "I'll get them, on the way out. They should be up, already."

Randi hurried after him out the door, then darted down the hall to the MechHangar. As she burst through the door into the bay, she could hear the sound of weapons fire off in the distance. She spared a quick glance around as she climbed up to Nyx's cockpit, and saw that both the _Quickdraw_ and _Shadow Cat_ were gone. She only hoped they would arrive in time to protect the militia 'Mechs.

Almost as soon as her 'Mech began its start-up procedure, the comm buzzed with Fred's voice. "Black Wolf, this is Mayhem. I just got word from Donnagán, there are six _Demolishers_ backed up by two LRM carriers—" A salvo of his missiles could be heard over the comm.

Donnagán suddenly broke into the conversation over the unit-wide channel. "All units, be advised the militia only have a _Vulcan_ and three _Vedettes_ left along with a couple trucks. They should appear as friendlies on your IFF, now."

"Thanks for keying them in, Opus," Randi replied, quickly pulling back from the racks and thundering out the hangar doors.

"Just making sure we're shooting the right people. Eh, Kitten?"

"I— They—" the young MechWarrior stammered. "Look, it's only a scratch—it'll buff out, right?"

"Jackass!" the _Vulcan_ pilot spat at him.

"Quiet on the comm!" Randi demanded. Everyone fell silent once they realized that the order had come from the _Mad Cat_ which suddenly stepped onto the field. "Kit, take your new 'friend' and double-time it back to the hangar. I will cover the _Vedettes_."

"Roger..." Kit reported softly, trailing behind the _Vulcan_ to cover its flank.

"Black Wolf, Vixen and I will distract the _Demolishers_. Once you're done with the _Vedettes_, try and get those LRM Carriers. Hopefully, the rest will run without their fire support."

"Are you sure she has enough armor to tangle with those things?" Randi said skeptically, even as she began moving to deal with a pursuing _Demolisher_.

"I'm not sure any of us do... We just have to keep moving."

"Don't worry about me, Black Wolf," Hank replied. Her _Quickdraw_ jumped up onto a ridge, trying to get out of one tank's turret arc, and poured her LRMs into its hull.

Fred followed suit with his autocannon and lasers, freezing the turret. As he moved to another target, an AC/20 shell glanced off the torso of his 'Mech, causing it to twist and reel back. "Agh!"

Randi quickly let loose a bolt of her ER PPC at the offending tank, hoping to buy Fred a moment to recover. A _Demolisher_ began to track her, only to be met with a swift reply of SRMs as she twisted back to face it.

"The Vulcan's secure in the hangar, where do you want me?" Nikolai reported.

Moments later, several LRMs smashed into the ground around them, sending up clumps of dirt, but doing little damage to them. "Kit, if you can find an opening, go passive and flank around the tanks for the LRM carriers." Fred ordered. "If this is too much, just hang back and provide fire support."

"Uh, roger," he said, a little nervously. Seeing what kind of firepower the Lyran vehicles boasted seemed to have put him on edge. Nevertheless, he complied quickly, disappearing down into a gorge as he tried to sneak up on the carriers.

Fred brought his 'Mech to the top of a ridge and fired his own LRMs back at the carriers in reply to their salvo, and quickly ducked down to keep out of the arc of an enemy _Demolisher_.

Many MechWarriors looked down on tanks and other vehicles as an obsolete in modern warfare. Slower, less maneuverable, and generally mounting fewer weapons than a 'Mech of similar tonnage, it was easy to see them as quaint but ineffective machines. However, tanks, unlike 'Mechs, almost never operated alone. A pack of _Demolishers_ would quickly change the tune of anyone who looked down on the "tread heads," once their 'Mech was being gored by AC/20s.

The _Mad Cat_ continued to make hit-and-run attacks on her target, suffering a series of autocannon hits as she danced around it, constantly trying to stay out of the tank's crosshairs. Randi tapped her jumpjets lightly, hopping forward, only to find the tank roaring down a shallow incline towards her. Her 'Mech's feet slipped a little as she tried to avoid slamming into it on landing. She managed to catch her balance, and scrambled away from the 80-ton tank, stabbing it in the tread with a PPC shot.

Across from her, Hank continued taking potshots at the other monstrous tanks. The _Quickdraw_ darted back and forth through the rock formations, trying to use the sandstone as cover when possible. In search of a better position, she took a running leap, rising on her jumpjets, to reach a small outcropping of rock. She landed gingerly on the cliff's edge, holding her balance. Just as Hank began to move towards more stable rock, a blast from the nearest _Demolisher_ disintegrated the ground beneath her feet.

Her 'Mech slid against the rock, tearing up her thin armor, before she managed to fire her jump jets. The act barely saved her from crashing down on the hard earth of Wyatt. The _Demolisher_ was waiting for her and fired both of it's autocannons, snapping one of the legs clean off of the _Quickdraw_. The 'Mech crashed down on its side, smashing the left arm under its weight. As if to try and seal her fate, a wall of LRMS crashed down between Randi and Hank.

"Vixen!" Randi gasped in horror as the tanks began to rip the woman's 'Mech apart. She hit her jumpjets again, and cutting them a little too soon, found herself crashing onto the hull of a _Demolisher_. Its armor buckled under the weight of her 'Mech, crumpling one of its treads. The _Mad Cat_ stumbled at first, but quickly sprinted on to protect the fallen _Quickdraw_. Its bulbous head was dented on one side, from the fall, but the dark-tinted window made it impossible to see Hank's condition.

Randi shouted again, "Vixen! Respond, dammit!"

Another wall of missiles rained down. Tracking the _Mad Cat_, they ended up landing on the _Demolisher_ that Randi partially crushed. Just a moment later, a violent explosion rumbled in the distance, followed by another at the missiles' origin.

Fred, meanwhile, raced across the mesa above, hurriedly trying to find a position to provide cover fire for his lancemates. "It looks like Kit did his job and the rest of the _Demolishers_ are retreating," he observed, still pressing his attack against the tanks.

"Not all of them..." Nikolai interrupted. "There was a _Demolisher_ here."

Randi stepped back, closer to the _Quickdraw_, and hunkered down. With Hank unresponsive, it was critical to shield the head and cockpit. She muttered a brief curse, wishing for the first time that her 'Mech had hands. As it stood, no one in their unit had any way of opening the cockpit. Hank would have to escape the 'Mech on her own, or hold out until help arrived—if she was even alive, still.

A few autocannon shots echoed in the distance followed by flashes of laser fire as the remaining tanks retreated past Fred and Kit's 'Mechs. Fred maneuvered his battered 'Mech closer to Hank's, inspecting it. "What's her condition?"

"I don't know. She's not responding, and I don't have any way to get the cockpit open."

Fred sent a shot of his autocannon up toward the ridge, reminding the tanks that a speedy retreat was in their best interest. "I see. Opus we need a—"

"Already on it, Mayhem," the Bowie officer interrupted. "We have Techs and EMTs on the way. You did well. I hope she's alright"

By this time, the tanks were near the edge of Randi's sensor range. "Kit, stay on guard. Mayhem, do you have any training in field medicine?"

"Only basic... and I'm kinda rusty," Fred admitted as he crouched the _Dragon_, readying himself to assist.

Randi ignored his misgivings and popped open the _Mad Cat's_ cockpit. She grabbed the first-aide kit stowed under the console, and quickly clambered down to the ground. While Fred began to climb down from his _Dragon_, she moved ahead, scrambling over the still-hot carcass of the _Quickdraw_, to its head.

Fred hurried after her, armed with the small crowbar from the _Dragon's_ cockpit—standard equipment for many InnerSphere 'Mechs. Randi started to lay out the supplies from her first-aid kit as he joined her. Rather than trying to smash in the ferroglass as she expected, he crouched down, and began to pry off a small metal plate from the _Quickdraw's_ head. Moving the cover aside revealed a latch marked for the emergency access hatch. That was something Randi had never seen before in a 'Mech. She quickly realized though, that in an age where Battle Armor and Elementals haunted a MechWarriors' worst nightmares, this once helpful feature was now a weakness. It was little wonder that Clan machines had no such equipment.

Setting the hatch aside, Fred cast Randi a quick glance."You'd better get her—you're smaller. I'm also really inflexible." The comment was followed by a nervous chuckle, but there was no mirth in it.

Randi just nodded, and quickly crawled inside the cramped cockpit. The combination of waste heat from the 'Mech and Wyatt's thin atmosphere made it a chore just to breath. She could already feel herself growing light-headed; Hank wouldn't last long without help. Carefully maneuvering in what little space was available, she disconnected the unconscious woman's neuro-helment and slipped an oxygen mask onto her. Next, she shut down the _Quickdraw's_ reactor, and hastily removed Hank's leads, safety harness, and cooling vest.

"How are her wounds?" Fred asked, his voice echoing down to her.

"I can't see any serious damage, right now. Help me get her out of here," Randi called up to him. As a rule, people always weighed twice as much as normal when unconscious. She would need some extra muscle to move Hank as carefully as possible.

Fred leaned down into the access hatch, hooking his arms under their patient's. Together, they were able to bring her out of the dead _Quickdraw_ with relative ease. She knew it wasn't a good idea to try and move her comrade in this condition, the worse option was to leave her be.

"I'll check her wounds. Get the antibiotic and bandages," she said, sluggishly. The hypoxic environment was finally getting to her. Shaking her head, she continued her assessment. "The... The, ah, EMTs should be here, soon. Right?"

"I hope so," Fred replied. "At this rate, you're gonna need 'em, too."

* * *

Nikolai had been far quieter than usual, once he rejoined the rest of the lance. Now, as they sat in the conference room, waiting for the milita officer to join them, Randi could tell that he was agitated. He kept shifting in his seat, and kept absently reaching back to his hair—only to remember how short it was, and drop his hand.

"Nik," she said.

He turned around quickly, almost startled. "Wha? Yes?"

"Go see how Hank is."

"O-okay." He gave a nod and quickly left the room.

Randi sighed once the younger pilot was gone. "I wonder why he is so shaken up all of a sudden..."

"Well," Fred mused, "no one had gotten hurt, before. At least, no one he knows."

"Yes, and this is an invasion. It's war. People get hurt in wars. What the did he think happens?"

"Knowing something is a lot different than experiencing it for yourself," Fred replied. "Maybe it's not such a shock in more...martial cultures. But I've got a feeling that Nik had a pretty safe, stable life, before." He leaned back in his chair.

"What should we do? Hank is out of action, and we can't afford to leave Nikolai out because of his nerves."

Her partner just shook his head. "Nothin' we can do. The heat's on, now, and he'll either break or learn to pull himself together."

A few moments later, Donnagán entered the room, accompanied by the junior lieutenant that they had met previously.

"Mr. Acosta," she said with a somewhat cold, but polite nod.

"Lieutenant Raynes," he replied. "How're your men?"

"You mean the ones who _survived?_ They'll be fine." She added a mutter of, "Lyran bastards..." as she took a seat. "How is your pilot?"

"Ah, not bad, actually," Donnagán said, giving Randi and Fred a faint smile, as he sat next to them. "She's awake, now."

Raynes nodded and slid a folder across the table to Fred. "You have our gratitude for your assistance, earlier."

"You can make the gratitude payable to 'The Vigilante Guard'," Fred replied. "We're not here to do favors and charity work."

"I know. That's why I've been authorized to offer you a contract to join in the defense of Wyatt. I've already spoken with Ms. Brunner, and gotten her approval, as well. So, are you in?"

Fred looked over the contract terms carefully for a few moments, then handed them to Randi. "What do you think?"

She frowned. "Considering the Lyrans' attitude, I'm not sure we have a choice."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Randi! Fred!" Hank grinned as the two MechWarriors walked through the door, and sat up straighter in the lounge chair. Without a full infirmary on-site, the medics had decided to simply move her to one of the break rooms while they dealt with more injured patients. To her right, Nikolai sat watching the news.

Fred smiled back as he walked up to her. "Hey, it's great to see you up." After a slight pause, he continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Heh, been better," she said, motioning to the dressing on her left arm. "Fortunately, though, there's no major damage. And Nik's been keeping me company." She smiled and picked up a bowl from the small table beside her. The dish seemed to consist of an unidentified meat over top of rice. The look of it seemed to Randi much like some Clan foods, but the smell was decidedly more appealing. Hank took a bite of the meat and nodded to her lancemate. "'You're a pretty good cook."

"Eh, thanks." Nikolai frowned a little, turning off the trivid. "Of course, the _only_ thing I can cook is beef curry..."

Fred chuckled lightly. "Hey, you're a step ahead of me."

Attempting to steer the conversation back to Hank's condition, Randi began, "You were unconscious for quite awhile..."

"Yeah. I hear that I've got you two to thank for savin' my toast," she replied with a smile.

"What have the medics said about your status?"

"Well, they figure I just took a good whack to the head when my 'Mech fell. Knocked me out. Sure, that's not real healthy, or anythin', but there's no permanent damage. They said I'm cleared for duty."

"That's good to hear. How's your arm?" Fred asked.

"Just a flesh wound," she said with a snicker. Hank looked down at her hand and flexed her fingers. "It still hurts a bit, but it's not gonna slow me down."

"A 'bit'?" Nikolai scoffed. "You got, like, two dozen stitches!"

She grinned back at him and reached for the edge of her bandages. "Yeah, wanna see 'em?"

"No!" The younger pilot pulled back in horror.

"Let them heal." Fred smiled and ribbed Nikolai lightly. "Besides, we don't want to scare Kitten too much."

Hank smirked and nodded. "Oh, alright." Her expression grew more serious as she looked back at Fred and Randi. "So... how bad does my _Quickdraw_ look?"

Fred tried to keep a positive expression, but shifted a little as he tried to formulate a response. "It... Ah, it _is_ fixable... I'm afraid, though, that it'll have to wait. Considering the situation, there are other priorities."

"I understand," she replied with a nod.

Fred leaned over to Randi and asked softly. "Should we show her, or let her rest?"

"I want to see it," Hank spoke up, before Randi had a chance to reply.

Fred's eyes widened a little. "Oh, wow, you have good hearing. I guess, if you think you're up for it—"

Hank gave him a resolute, if not somewhat reproachful look, and stood up from the chair. Randi stepped back into the hall, and turned to lead the way as the others followed. Bowie's hangar had become a good deal more crowded with the addition of the Marik units. The surviving _Vulcan_ looked to be little more than skeleton and a few shreds of armor, now. Beowulf, at the far end of the hangar, was still awaiting parts.

The _Quickdraw_, however, was not even hung in the repair racks yet. The mangled BattleMech still lay on the salvage tract that had retrieved it. Its severed leg had been deposited nearby on the hangar floor.

Clan pilots might get attached to their customary machines, but their connection to a BattleMech was far less permanent, most times. A Clan typically had the resources to replace or repair a severely damaged 'Mech, if the pilot was worthy. An InnerSphere pilot, however, was totally dependent on their BattleMech. Even many House MechWarriors piloted a privately-owned machine. If they lost it, there may never be a replacement.

Unsure how Hank would handle the situation, Fred tried to offer some sympathy. "You know, I know how it is to take a hit like that..."

She didn't seem to hear him, and stepped off the loading dock to the hangar floor, walking ahead to her BattleMech. Hank put a hand on it lightly. "Dammit..."

Fred kept his distance and let her have a moment to gather her thoughts.

Nikolai, on the other hand, followed her up to it. "I'm sure it can be fixed."

"Not soon enough," she said.

Fred pulled Nikolai back. "Give her some space."

"What? It's just a machine," he muttered.

Randi instantly felt taken aback by the blasphemous comment. Her partner was right about their trainee. He still didn't understand precisely what kind of world he had chosen to enter.

"Yeah," Hank said, correcting him before Randi could, "but it's my machine." She stood, staring at it—not visibly angry or saddened, but somewhat blank. "And it was my dad's."

Fred winced lightly. "Sounds like you're very lucky, then," he said.

She nodded. "Real lucky." Hank smiled a little. "Everybody figured my oldest brother would inherit it, but...dad left it to me."

"Don't tell me your brother became an accountant like mine," Fred chuckled.

"Ha, no. He's a mercenary, too. But," she said with a hint of pride, "Dad thought I was the better pilot."

"Sounds like your father's a good judge of skill. You handle that _Quickdraw_ very well."

"_Was_,actually..."

Randi frowned a little. She had never been good with social things like this, but made a stab at support for her lancemate. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Hank shook her head and tucked some stray hair behind her ear, and forced a bit of a smile. "No, that... It was years ago." As quickly as it had come, thought, her smile faded. She drew her hand back from the 'Mech and sat down on the edge of the loading dock. "Well, what's the plan, now? Seems that Nik and I missed out on somethin' to do with the Mariks. Are they in with us?"

"They sure are. Bowie is setting them up with two new _Archers_. We're on contract, now, and finally going on the offensive."

"Glad to hear it. Those bastards owe me a new 'Mech," she muttered.

Across the hangar, a door creaked open as Harrison and Ned arrived for their shifts. Fred waved them over to join in the conversation. "Hey, just the man I wanted to see! And Ned, too." He turned again to the others. "While Randi and I are out, Harrison will be in command."

"Oh, boy..." the senior Tech muttered.

"Hank, I want you and Nikolai to stay here to defend the factory along with the _Vedettes_ the militia brought."

"There's only one functional 'Mech, though," the younger pilot protested, edging away as Ned sat down nearby. "What's Hank going to pilot?"

"Oh, you mean you do not—? Oh, that's right. You would not know that." Randi tried to look sympathetic to him, although she was sure that she failed. "Uh... You see, even though we don't have formal ranks...we, er, still have ranks."

Nikolai frowned. "What."

"So, while you two have the same rank—MechWarrior—on paper... she actually outranks you. A lot."

"What? Why? We both started at the same time."

"For the Vigilante Guard, yes. But," Fred pointed out, "Hank is a combat veteran, and you...are a kid who plays video games, and has been in one and a half battles."

"Two and a half..." the teenager corrected.

"You have done well in learning to maneuver," Randi said, "but your ratio of hits to shots fired is, I'm afraid, unacceptably low. Even for a green, InnerSphere MechWarrior."

"H-how low?" Nikolai asked, shocked. "I've hit stuff!"

"Not consistently. I'm afraid that if you were in a sibko or basic training, you would wash out."

"Yeah, well..." he stammered. "I'm getting better!"

"You are still a long way from being able to hold off heavily-armed, combat-seasoned attackers on your own."

He winced faintly, apparently realizing the obvious truth of this. He quickly frowned again, though, determined to be upset about something. "Fine... But that still doesn't explain why Harrison's in charge."

"Because," said the Tech, as he clapped a big hand down on Nikolai's shoulder, "I outrank _everybody_. Hell, I outrank Fred, too, but it's more fun to watch him embarrass himself." He grinned.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, your jobs would be really boring without me."

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that," Harrison scoffed. Facing Ned, he jerked a thumb back to the _Quickdraw_. "First impressions?"

The younger tech stared intently at the machine, looking nothing so much as vexed. "We're gonna need more duct tape."

"Don't worry, Nikky here will help you fix it," Fred snickered. "Shouldn't be too hard for you guys to fix anyway, right?"

"Well, I—" Ned stopped short, and cast a quick glance at Hank. "I will fix the _hell_ out of this 'Mech," he said, dumbly.

"Oh, uh, thanks," she replied, giving him a curious look. "Wouldn't want to be pilotin' an unholy BattleMech."

* * *

Randi shifted uncomfortably in the command couch, as the anxiousness set in. Crouched in a small depression outside of the city walls, she couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't detect anyone else. Right now, there were four other 'Mechs in the field, outside of Earhardt. A _Dervish_, she knew, was waiting at the main road as a deterrent to rebellious citizens and Marik adventurism. In about sixty seconds, it had to go.

_Nyx's_ actuators groaned softly as she carefully climbed back to level ground, remaining in passive sensors mode. Watching the 'Mech's chronometer, she carefully picked her way through a cluster of boulders, edging closer. It was almost time.

"What is your business in Earhardt?" A Lyran soldier's voice crackled over an open frequency.

The Lyrans had asked for a tribute, and Brunner was going to give it to them. "The Marik militia has made a mess of Bowie," the convoy's lead diver responded. His tone seemed rather cool, despite the fact that the vehicles were ordinary, unarmed trucks. "They're demanding that hand over the remaining _Archers_ to them. So, as an apology, and to protect our investments, we are delivering them to the Lyran Alliance. We hope that you will accept our gift, and take good care of them."

"Apology or not, I will have to call this in. Official policy, you know. Hold here."

With a quick stomp on the pedals, the _Mad Cat's_ jumpjets sent it soaring into the air. She pulled her crosshairs down over the _Dervish_ swiftly, and mashed down on the alpha strike command. Before the Lyran 'Mech could even turn to face her, the volley of ER weaponry had eviscerated it.

"Clear!" she announced, landing near the still-smoking BattleMech. Not waiting for the others to catch up, she hit her jump jets again, landing on the rammed-earth slope that led up to the wall.

Immediately, the _Archers_ stood up from the backs of the flatbed trucks and started scanning for targets. One of them poured both of its SRM-4s into a _Scorpion_ tank that was speeding to meet the intruders. The missiles careened into the small tank, scraping its turret clean off the body.

A distant _Blackjack_ fired its autocannons desperately at the _Archers_ and _Timber Wolf_. Slowly backing away from the trio of heavies, it was slammed from behind by a series of LRMs and autocannon fire that wrenched its torso to the side. Fred's _Dragon_ charged at full speed, sprinting from its cover in the rocks, and pressed the attack with a pair of lasers. The beams speared into the battered rear armor, igniting the autocannon rounds, and putting the _Blackjack_ out of commission.

Randi jumped again, this time perching atop a hardened military building. Another _Scorpion_ tank rolled out into the street, swinging its guns around to target the _Mad Cat_. Randi took a few steps back as ordnance chewed at the edge of the roof, and quickly scanned the area for any greater threats.

She spotted a pair of LRM carriers, one on the opposite side of the city from her position, the other down the main boulevard, in front of the city hall. Both were protected by a _Demolisher_, and both were raising their launchers to take aim at her position.

With a quickly fired shot of her lasers, Randi jumped down into the street. The _Scorpion_ immediately went into reverse, trying to crawl back over the broken pavement to safety. She dispatched a shot of her PPC into its turret, then another into its tread, and trotted on down the road.

"Black Wolf, what did you see from up there?" Fred asked. Both the _Dragon_ and _Archers_, lacking jumpjets, were restricted to the streets.

"Got a visual on one of the _Demolishers_ we messed up, earlier. A couple of LRM carries are trying to protect it."

"Good thing those should be useless in a city fight. Storm One and Two, how are you holding up?" he asked Raynes and her lancemate.

"We're just fine," the lieutenant replied as she fired a salvo of LRMs into a _Demolisher_. "It feels good to see _them_ retreating, for once."

Picking her way through some rubble, Randi reached another section of the city's wall and scaled it for a better vantage point. "Crap," she muttered, watching one of the _Demolishers_. "Mayhem, there's another _Blackjack_ approaching from the east. It looks like it's moving to reinforce the tanks."

"Roger that. I'll take care of them both." Fred weaved his 'Mech between buildings and down streets, careful not to slip on the smooth pavement. "I've got a visual."

Sprinting from one cover to the next, he fired a autocannon and lasers into the _Demolisher_ in a hit-and-run attack. The approaching _Blackjack_ fired its quad lasers, melting and scarring armor on the _Dragon's_ torso, but not breaching it. Fred made a hard turn to the left, ducking behind a building for cover, only to lose his footing and skid into another building, demolishing the face of it.

"Damn..." Fred muttered over the comm, as he struggled to pull his 'Mech free.

The slower _Blackjack_ carefully followed him around the corner, leveling its guns on Fred's prone BattleMech. There were several bright flashes over the _Blackjack_ as a series of LRMs slammed into it, engulfing it in fire and smoke.

Lieutenant Raynes chuckled. "I can't let your lance take all the kills." Her Archer cautiously continued down the street, checking each intersection.

"That leaves one more 'Mech and a handful of tanks, right, Black Wolf?" Fred asked as he pulled his 'Mech free of the building's rubble.

"It seems so..." She began to take another look around the city. Suddenly, there was an urgent alarm from her sensors, and a new target on radar. "Cold-start, five hundred meters west! Looks like a _Griffin_," she informed the others. "I'll take care of it."

"Roger that. We'll finish off the _Demolisher_ and see about getting control of the city hall."

Randi waited for a moment before jumping down, trying to get a good look at the new arrival. The computer tagged it as a GRF-1N, which meant that it had a weapons payload favoring range fighting. The pilot would likely do everything he could to keep her from getting too close. As soon as she caught a glimpse of it passing amongst the buildings, she unloaded both PPCs at the Lyran 'Mech

One of the shots scraped an empty office complex, but the other pounded the medium 'Mech in its pauldron-like shoulder. It stumbled a little, and disappeared around the corner of another building. Satisfied that she had startled it, she dropped down to the ground, and put on a burst of speed to reach it. In close quarters, both of its weapons would be ineffective, while she had plenty of firepower to dole out.

More missiles chased after her, as she made a break for better cover. A handful of the LRMs hit, tearing the armor on her side torso, while the rest crashed into the ground behind her. _'I hate city fighting.'_ Randi frowned as she caught a glimpse of the damage that the buildings around her were taking. She had always been displeased about the idea of fighting near peoples' homes. At least in this case, the city was almost completely deserted.

Safe behind a tall building and several blocks away, now, she trotted down the street ahead of her, and switched off her active radar. As the _Griffin_ disappeared from her sensors, she made a quick U-turn, and crept back towards her earlier position. Maybe the _Griffin_ could be tempted to follow, if the pilot thought that she was fleeing.

It was a stretch, granted. Much in contrast to the popular Social General stereotype, _someone_ in charge knew how to plan an invasion and the soldiers on-planet had been rather effective at acting on those orders. Still, everyone had their pride. There was little that could boost an InnerSphere soldier's ego more than the thought that they had just scared off a Clan OmniMech.

Moving slowly to see if the _Griffin_ had taken the bait, she crept around one of the lower buildings. Instantly, a PPC shot and a stream of LRMs flooded over the roof, grazing the top of her 'Mech. She spat a curse and sprinted forward to new cover. _'It was worth a try...'_

The _Griffin_ jumped back to a taller, more secure building before firing again. Eager to keep it from gaining the upper hand, Randi stomped on the _Mad Cat's_ jumpjets and leapt over into the adjacent street. Aiming quickly as she landed, she let loose a bolt of her PPC at the Lyran machine.

"Black Wolf, Storm and I have taken care of thetanks in front of city hall, and we're ordering everyone inside to surrender." Fred reported. "There are still a few small tanks and infantry scattered throughout the city."

"Copy that, Mayhem. I am still tracking the _Griffin_," she replied. Randi switched frequencies to the open channel. "Attention, _Griffin_ pilot. The rest of your comrades have been disabled or destroyed. "Surrender now, and you will not be harmed."

"Like hell I will!" the pilot answered, jumping from one building to another, as he made his way out of the city.

"Great," Randi sighed aloud, and turned on her radar again. "Mayhem, I am going after the _Griffin_. Hopefully, this will be short."

"Roger that. Storm's lancemate is moving to assist." Fred responded. "I'll contact Donnagán a report the city is back in Free World hands."

"Copy, over." She quickened her pace, and leaped after the medium 'Mech, trying to catch it before it could get past the wall.

The 55-tonner jumped again, firing its PPC hastily at Randi. The building it landed on could barely hold its weight, and the windows popped and shattered from their frames. Unstable, its shot went wide, leaving _Nyx_ unscathed by the attempt. She slowed a little to better her shot, and took aim at one of the _Griffin's_ legs. Now within closer range, she stabbed at the 'Mech with her medium lasers. A salvo of her SRMs threw it further off balance as it attempted to jump. The 'Mech landed hard and wobbled a little before its shoulder crashed into another building, getting stuck in the wall.

Cautiously, Randi approached it. "_Now_, do you surrender?"

The Lyran 'Mech struggle to free itself for a moment more, then stopped. There was a long pause before the cockpit hatch opened and the pilot stood with his hands up.

"Power down your 'Mech, and remain where you are. A medical team will pick you up, soon. You will not be harmed," she assured the pilot over the external speaker. Switching back to speak with Fred, she reported, "The last of the Lyran MechWarriors has surrendered."

"Excellent work." Fred replied. "Donnagán reported that the militia forces from Bowie are on their way along with salvage. Speaking of which, how's that _Griffin_ look?"

"Not bad, at the moment. Whether it will be in decent shape after being pried out of this building remains questionable..."

"Alright. I think today went well."

"Yes. We hardly killed anyone at all."


	14. Chapter 14

_Notes: A while back, "pacificuser" suggested that I include a TO&E for _Los Tiburónes del Toro_. While I don't normally include that kind of information in a list, I felt it would be appropriate here. I hope everyone enjoys getting a closer look at out protagonists' Taurian allies._

* * *

Chapter 14

"This is Tango Romeo One requesting permission to enter the city."

"Roger that. You are cleared to proceed. Welcome to Earhardt," Randi replied. Looking down from the city wall at the approaching convoy. A quartet of _Rommel_ tanks lead the party, followed by a pair of _Goblins_, all churning up dirt and sand with their massive treads. Since the militia's armor units were shredded, some of the _Tiburónes_ tanks had been diverted to protect the city. If all went well, the displaced civilians would soon be allowed to return to their homes.

She changed frequencies and keyed the comm again, "Mayhem, our friends have arrived."

"Excellent. We should be able to get to work soon," Fred responded. "Escort Islera to the city hall. She'll want to see some of the things we found."

"Roger that." She trotted down to the down the wall's slope to meet the convoy. Once inside the gates, the tanks began to spread out, assuming defensive positions. One of the _Goblins_ broke away from the rest of the vehicles to follow Randi.

"_Hola, amiga._ Lead the way," Islera said, as the towering OmniMech stepped into the street.

Fred was already waiting at the steps of the hall for their guest. He was still wearing his cooling vest after patrolling the city for remnants of the Lyran forces. Most had surrendered peacefully, but a few of the infantrymen would not lay down their arms without a fight.

As Randi stepped into a side street, the _Goblin_ rolled up to the government building. As it stopped, the main hatch opened, and an infantry squad filed out from the vehicle. Islera followed them, dressed in her pilot gear.

"What, you don't trust me to keep this place safe?" Fred chuckled "_Tu bueno verte de nuevo._" He stepped forward and offered his hand for a quick shake. "We have a lot to talk about."

"_Sí tal_." She returned the gesture, and looked around, taking a quick survey of the building damage. "It looks like you handled the Elsies pretty well, capybara. The militia didn't do too badly for themselves, either."

"I'm glad you think so." Fred chuckled lightly, apparently having decided not to argue with the nickname she had given him. He frowned a little and gestured toward the entrance, as the other commander's breathing grew more strained. "Shall we? The atmosphere's better inside."

"_Sí,_ my lungs aren't what they used to be." She strode ahead into building after him, while the _Tiburónes_ infantry fanned out to begin their searches. With the tanks patrolling now, as well, Randi lowered her 'Mech into a crouch and powered it down, moving to join her partner. Fred gave her a light kiss on the cheek as she walked up, and then led the way inside.

Making their way down the corridors, he attempted some small talk with Islera. "Why didn't you bring your _Marauder_?"

"It's in for some maintenance, right now. Besides, the _Goblin's_ got better air conditioning."

Fred chuckled and led them into the room that the Lyrans had used for their HQ. There were maps and files everywhere, some paper and some digital. The Lyrans had damaged or destroyed as much as they could, once they realized that they could not hold the city.

"Donnagán is going to see if he can recover any data from their systems," Randi said, as Islera began to pick through what was left behind. "Of course, by the time he can finish that, we expect most of the data to be obsolete. It may, at least, give us an idea of how many units they have committed to this world."

"Either way," Fred added, "it's a safe bet they're going to throw everything they have left at Hartsburg."

"I agree," Islera replied with a nod. "We are starting to run low on supplies, even with the government's help. They must to be in far worse straits than us."

"Yeah." Fred nodded. "If we knew where they were hiding, we could hit their supplies and run them dry."

The older MechWarrior adjusted her beret as she continued skimming through the singed papers. "Skirmisher Lance is looking for them, but they cannot fan out too far without leaving Hartsburg vulnerable."

"What about satcomm data?" asked Randi.

Islera shook her head. "The only satellites in orbit are commercial, and none of the companies want to take sides. We have tried to ensure that the Lyrans aren't getting supplies from sympathizers, though."

"Then it looks like our next course of action should be to bolster Hartsburg's defenses."

The Taurian MechWarrior stepped over to one of the active computers and changed the map location to the capitol city. A holographic projection appeared, and expanded to show the surrounding landscape.

"We have an advantage in the terrain," she said. "When you came in, you probably noticed that there is only one major road down from the mesa where the city lies. There is a second road, but it is much steeper, and narrower. Most tanks and 'Mechs would not be able to make it. The next advantage, is that we have become very familiar with the terrain, and the militia knows it, too. The Lyrans won't be able to sneak around; they'll be forced to face us."

Fred stroked his goatee in thought and looked over the map. "I'd guess that most of the fighting will have to happen here, outside of the city." He pointed to the lowlands before the road made its switchbacks up the mesa. "They'll need that road, but that seems like it will be suicide for them."

"I noticed," Randi added, "that they did very little damage to Earhardt's infrastructure when they invaded it. I have not often seen conquering InnerSphere militaries make much effort to avoid that."

Fred shrugged "Wyatt _was_ a Lyran planet."

"At least, we can hope they will be as anxious as we are to avoid collateral damage. It's a war for the hearts and minds, not just the dirt," Islera added.

"Do you think it's been working?"

"_Ay_, it's hard to say. I tried to get some of my people out there to find out the popular perception. But nobody wants to talk to a hiresword. The news anchors makes it seem bad, but I think they're playing up the damage both sides are doing."

"I have a feeling that any fighting that happens in the city will be pinned on us mercenaries," Fred said, turning to Islera. "We're not going to last long if the locals decide we're more trouble than we're worth."

"Then we will just have to stop the Lyrans before they get too close. The first thing we need to do, is ensure that we get some firepower in place on the mesa ridge. There are some prime locations for fire support here," she said, indicating on the projection, "and here."

"Bowie's _Archers_ will not be of much use in a knock-down fight," Randi observed, "but they would be great for keeping the Lyrans at arms' length."

"And the _Tiburónes_' main forces will be down here mixing it up with the Lyrans?" Fred pointed to the lower part of the map.

"That seems to be our best option," Islera said, nodding. "We're going to leave most of our tanks here in Earhardt, to provide some protection to the citizens. The LRM carriers are going to stay in Hartsburg, and one of the _Goblins_ will return, as well. It will protect that narrow road from infantry forces."

"Where do we come in?" asked Randi.

"Our units have a lot of long-range punch, but we need line units that are effective at close-range."

"I wouldn't say we excel at a knife fights," Fred replied, "but if you keep us covered, we'll lay down the hurt." He glanced over the map again. "If we come around this ridge, we may be able to flank them—especially if they have some slower units. If you'd like, your medium lance can come around from the other side like a pincer."

"We are trying to repair the _Griffin_ for one of our pilots to use. Both it and my _Mad Cat_ possess jumpjets. Vixen and I can take up positions along this ridge," Randi suggested, motioning to the map, "as snipers."

"That's true, and you will have reach over them." Fred grinned. "So, how does that sound, Islera? They will have only one option under this much firepower: run."

She nodded and leaned back in her chair. "You know what is said about plans, though," she muttered. "Together, we have got three full lances of 'Mechs, one lance of tanks, and anything the militia can scrape together. ...The Lyrans came here for an invasion, though, and I doubt they will back down easily."

"Then we have to make them regret fighting us." Fred thought for a moment. "Do you have any mines or thunder munitions?"

The older woman paused a moment. " _I_ don't... but our _Vindicator_ pilot, Carbón has a thing for alternative munitions. Packs thunders and infernos for her LRM."

"Interesting."

"Here," she said, handing them a copy of her unit's TO&E. "You should familiarize yourself with the rest of our unit."

**Los Tiburónes del Toro**

**Table of Organization & Equipment**

_Alpha Company  
Veteran/Fanatical_

Command Lance (The Shark's Teeth)

MAD-3R* _Marauder_ ("Islera" Vega, CO)  
C-1* _Catapult_ (Antonio "Martillo" Torres, XO)  
BL7-KNT* _Black Knight_ (Jordão "Tigre" Lourenço)  
WHM-6R* _Warhammer_, (Sevastian "Mako" Tarasov)

Skirmisher Lance (The Requiem)

HCT-5S _Hatchetman_ (Joshua "Spork" Hawthorn)  
CN-9A _Centurion_ (Grégoire "Hooker" d'Avignon)_  
_TBT-5N _Trebuchet_ (Tito "Meat Pie" Reyes)_  
_VND-3L _Vindicator_ (Criselda "Carbón" Jat)

_Tango Company:__  
Veteran/Fanatical_

Command Lance (The Landsharks)

_Rommel_ Heavy Tank (Carlos "Manta" Reyes)  
_Rommel_ Heavy Tank  
_Goblin_ Medium Tank

_LRM Carrier_ Medium Tank

Support Lance (The Threshers)

_Rommel_ Heavy Tank  
_Rommel_ Heavy Tank  
_Goblin_ Medium Tank

_LRM Carrier_ Medium Tank

_Los Tiburónes del Toro transport assets:_

Whale Shark (_Union_ Class DropShip)_  
_Remora (_Leopard_ Class Drop Ship)

*Indicates non-standard modifications

* * *

The hangar at Bowie was abuzz with movement, as the technicians scrambled to repair and rearm the newly acquired _Griffin_ BattleMech. Its previous owner was reluctant to give up the passcode that allowed the 'Mech to operate, but that proved to be only a minor obstacle. Ned simply took that as a challenge to hack the 'Mech's computer and reset the system and, Randi suspected, an excuse to show off for Hank. Ten meters below, at the feet of the unit's war machines, Fred had called the team together for an impromptu meeting to review the current situation.

"So, uh... that's a nice _Griffin_, y'all salvaged," Hank began.

Randi chuckled. "Yes, we _did_ bring it back for you to pilot. I hope that you will be able to utilize it well."

Relief seemed to wash over her features. An unfamiliar 'Mech was better than none at all. "I'll do my best, ma'am," she assured the other woman.

Fred nodded. "Once Ned's done working, I imagine you'll want to get acquainted with it. The way things are looking, I'm afraid you won't get many opportunities to train in it."

Hank's expression became more severe as Fred spoke. She nodded, already aware of what was to come. Nikolai looked between the three adults somewhat nervously, sensing that there was something grave about, but not certain as to what.

"You guys recaptured Earhardt City, right?" he asked.

"Yes. And the militia is holding it with _Tiburón_ support," Fred replied. "But we believe that the Lyrans will feel forced to attack Hartsburg, now."

"Oh..." He fell silent for a moment, then looked up again, offering an uneasy smile. "There's only a few of them left, though, right? Like that _Assassin_."

"Is there something wrong, Nikolai?"

"What? No. No, I just..." he stammered, "wanted to get an idea of our situation."

"War," Randi said bluntly. She could feel herself quickly losing patience for the teenager, and glared at him as he shrank back. "You came to _us_ . You wanted to fight. You wanted to be a Mech _Warrior_ . Well, you have your wish, now."

"Randi..." Fred's cheeks flushed as he pulled her back for a moment. "I don't care how it was done in the Clans, but I'm not going to punish him for being afraid."

"But the battlefield _will._" She took a deep breath, calming herself, and turned back to Nikolai. "You must be physically _and_ mentally prepared for this. You have to understand what you may face, once we go into battle."

"Nikolai, do you?" asked Fred, when the teenager hesitated.

He nodded slowly, looking more like a nervous shell than anything.

"Good. Now, we're gonna be moving out in about five hours." He put a hand on Nikolai's shoulder. "Let's go to the shooting range and work on that aim of yours."

"Is there anything y'all need me to do?" asked Hank.

"Nothing right now. If you like we can run some exercises, once the _Griffin_ is fully repaired," Randi replied.

"Yeah, sounds good." A faintly wicked grin lit her features as she looked back at her new machine. "In the mean time, I think I'm gonna help out with the paint job."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Ah, there you are." Donnagán walked over to the trio of MechWarriors that had gathered about the _Griffin_. Randi and Fred stood at its feet, while Hank made her way down the rope ladder with a bucket of paint. "I'm glad I caught you guys, before you left. Ah, where's the kid?"

"He's outside, practicing his aim. Don't worry about him." Fred smiled as the logistics officer joined them, but there was a glimmer of concern. Donnagán did not look well, nor did he look as though he had something cheerful to tell them. "What can we do for you?"

"I recovered enough data to ID the Lyran forces here." He grimaced. "It's—well, they are at least a _portion_ of the Gacrux FTM."

"This is... bad news?" Randi asked slowly.

"I wouldn't call it good. They're known for being headstrong with the potential for, shall we say, adventurism? Even the rest of the Alliance doesn't even trust them. They've been kept on a short leash, ever since the top brass found out that they have ties to the Brotherhood of Cincinnatus."

The others stared at him blankly.

"Right. Right, the Brotherhood probably doesn't make the news, outside of the Alliance..." Donnagán muttered. "They are a group that is, essentially, pissed at anything and everything that's not completely pro-Lyran or 'pure' Steiner—including Archon Peter. It's a good bet that they're upset about losing Wyatt to the League."

"So, the Gacrux militia, supporting these beliefs, has taken matter into its own hands?" Randi posited.

Donnagán nodded. "Probably against the wishes of the Alliance, too. I would guess that Bowie earned their ire by cooperating with the Free Worlds, after they took control."

Fred shook his head. "Geez. If these guys wanted to be a bunch of pro-Lyran cowboys, they should've just resigned from the Gacrux militia and gone merc, like the _Tiburónes_." He chuckled a little, hoping the jest would lighten the atmosphere a bit. No one seemed inclined to join him.

"Now we know why they're here. Do you know anything about how they fight?" asked Hank, as the stepped down to the ground, and leaned back on the foot of the _Griffin_.

"They're a veteran-rated unit, and they have a history of engaging in stand-up fights. They'll give you no quarter," he said gravely. "I'm afraid I haven't been able to find out how many units they've committed to retaking Wyatt, what's on-planet, or if any reinforcements are on the way."

"Do you think you'll be able to, with some more time?"

"No." Donnagán sighed. "About half the computers that were brought back had magnets taken to them, and some were even physically smashed. I'll keep trying to find anything I can, but I'm not a miracle-worker and I'm not Scottish, either." He turned and shoved his hands in his pockets, walking away with a somewhat sullen air.

Hank stood, and trotted after him. "Hey..." she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, lightly. "Thanks for helping us. I understand that this isn't easy for you."

"Why? It's not like I owe the Gacrux FTM anything. Bloody bastards chargin' in here and stirring up trouble, after things were finally settling down..." he grumbled, and left the hangar.

* * *

The journey to Hartsburg was slow and ponderous. The Vigilante Guard 'Mechs marched throughout the night to their new staging grounds; speaking little during the trip in order to move unnoticed. When they finally came within sight of the city, the sun was still below the horizon, leaving only a faint, distant glow in the scant clouds.

Where the _Tiburónes_ had set up camp, however, and floodlights defied the darkness. The whole area was bathed in an intensely white light, as technicians worked to repair and maintain the 'Mechs. All four BattleMechs of their command lance stood in the gantry, staring menacingly with sharp eyes and razor-like shark teeth painted onto them. Beside these machines, another makeshift gantry had been set up for the guests.

With Fred's _Dragon_ in the lead, the lance filed into the gantry and powered down their machines. Nikolai was one of the first out of his 'Mech, quickly scrambling down the ladder to the ground. She couldn't tell if he was nervous or excited. Perhaps he was just glad to have the chance to stretch his legs.

Hank, on the other hand, was quite deliberate about the shutdown procedure, as she seemed to be with most things. She had seemed a bit hesitant when they left the Bowie facilities, clearly uncomfortable with piloting anything other than her trusted _Quickdraw_ while battle loomed. Over the course of the trip, however, she seemed to have come to accept the _Griffin_. The PPC, she had noted to Randi, more than made up for the tonnage difference.

Fred was next to power down. As he climbed out of his 'Mech, he surveyed the area, and waved to a figure that was approaching them. Antonio came out to greet them.

"_¡Buenas noches! ¿Viaje bueno?_" Antonio called, returning the gesture.

"_¡Buenas noches!_" Fred chuckled. "Or should it be 'good morning,' by now?" Fred made his way to the ground and offered his hand to Antonio.

"Is it now?" Antonio replied, shaking hands with Fred. "Ah, you know how time flies."

As the others gathered, Randi joined them. She tried to smiled, but it was difficult to appear genuine, while she was squinting in the floodlights. "How have things been at Earhardt?"

"Excellent. There have been no more disturbances in the city. Some civilians have returned and started the process of cleaning up."

"That's good news," Hank said. She turned to Nikolai and smiled a little. "See? The civilians are gonna be fine, sugar. Fred made the right choice by waiting."

Nikolai smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Antonio nodded as well and looked up at the _Griffin_. "I see this is the new toy that you got from Earhardt." He chuckled. "And what's that painted on it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's so much a threat," she mused, looking up at the broken, bloodied Steiner fist painted on the armor, "as a promise..."

He nodded and smiled sympathetically. "Ah, yes. I'm sorry to hear about your _Quickdraw_."

Hank just gave him a smirk that seemed to say, _Not as sorry as the Lyrans will be_, and shrugged. "It can be fixed," she said aloud.

"Ah, that's good." He grinned back. "In any case, our Techs here will help you with any repairs you need done to your 'Mechs.

"In the meantime, I think we should head inside. Islera will want to talk to you, Fernando, and I'm sure all of you could use a drink."

"Maybe not _all_ of us," Randi said, looking at Nikolai doubtfully.

"_¿Él no es adulto?_" Antonio muttered to Fred, with a quick glance to the youngest pilot.

Fred nodded. "Si." Catching Nikolai's disappointed look, he added, "Maybe we can make an exception, after we win. You'll have to earn it, though."

"Eh, I think have some soda in the refrigerator, anyway," Antonio said, motioning for them to follow him. He led them into a large trailer that had been converted to a mobile HQ of sorts, and went to retrieve the drinks as the Guard MechWarriors made themselves comfortable. Islera gave them a warm greeting and made some room at the table for them.

"Have you heard the new info on the Lyrans, yet?" Fred asked, taking a seat.

"Yes, actually. Donnagán gave us a call on the secure line, while you were _en route_. It figures that we would get the Elsies who actually know how to fight." She gave her XO a nod as he handed her a beer. "_Gracias._"

"Explains a lot about their operations," Fred agreed, as Antonio continued passing out drinks.

"I see, and is there any news on the HPG?" asked Randi.

She shook her head. "It's still down. Last I heard, it would be another month before it would be fixed. They're probably waiting on the _robes_ to come fix it."

"By then, hopefully the FWL would realize they're missing a planet and have some forces inbound."

Hank shook her head. "Don't bet on that. Those bickering Leaguer jokes may be an exaggeration, but there's a grain of truth in 'em."

Fred looked over are Nikolai. "Well, then, we might want to continue those training exercises."

"_¿Cuál es?_" asked Islera suspiciously, as she watched Antonio hand the teenager a bottled drink.

"_Es malta._"

"_¿Malta?_" She glared at him. "_¿Por qué tú haría esto a mí?_"

"_¿Qué hice mal?_" he protested.

"It's fake beer! Why do you go wasting my refrigerator space with fake beer? What did I ever do to you?"

"It's for the kids among us, of course." Fred nodded to Nikolai. The young pilot sighed and sank down in his seat. He wrenched the cap off his drink and took a draught of it, in spite of the jibe.

"I did not put that in your fridge," insisted Antonio. He put his hands up, as if to prove his innocence.

"You also said that you didn't eat my sandwich," Islera countered.

Hank lowered her voice a bit and elbowed Nik, lightly "We might tease you a little bit, but at least, we don't eat your sandwiches."

Nikolai looked back at both of his lancemates, unconvinced.

"Aw, lighten up a little," Fred suggested. "It'll make the fighting easier."

"So, I'm supposed to be killing people with a jolly laugh?" he groused.

"If it helps. Somehow, I have the feeling that's not really your thing." Fred took another sip of his beer and pointed to their _Tiburón_ comrades. "Look at how they 'bicker.' They're not really mad, they're just making light of the situation. Sometimes, it helps."

The younger pilot rolled his eyes and continued sipping his drink, though ever more slowly. Nikolai stared down at the bottle. "This... is like drinking liquid wheat and sugar..."

"Exactly," said Islera. "It's unfermented beer."

The new information did not seem to encourage him. "Uh, yeah, maybe we should go train some more."

"Alright." Fred grinned. "Is there a firing range around here?"

"Anywhere somebody isn't standing," Islera said with a shrug. "I would suggest going past the southern edge of our camp."

Fred tapped Nikolai's shoulder. "Come on. Get to your 'Mech."

"Yes!" he grinned and darted out the door, eagerly.

Fred took one last sip, then stood. "Gonna go have some fun stomping around. Radio me, if there's anything new comes up."

"Will do," Islera said with a nod.

Following that, a particularly empty silence settled in the room. "So..." Randi began, looking around at the others as she fumbled for a conversation topic to fill the space. Small-talk was practically nonexistent in the Clans. Until she came to the Inner Sphere, she had never realized how excruciating it was.

Hank gave her a sympathetic smile, obviously aware of the difficulty. "You know, I could use some more time in the _Griffin_, tomorrow. Want to go with me?" she offered.

She nodded. "I think we could all use more training. Especially, as a unit. Fred and I know one another's piloting styles, but having two new people changes the unit dynamics."

Antonio turned to Randi, in an effort to prevent Islera from returning to the subject of the contested refrigerator. "Say, how did you guys get together for the Vigilante Guard?"

"Ah, really it was... by luck," she said, biting her lip a little. After being reminded of it, she could hardly believe how much time had passed. _'Two years, now? Closer to a year and a half...'_

"Luck is always good. And you Henrietta, luck as well?"

"Heh, yes and no. I mean, it's lucky they hired me on, but not so lucky that I was out of a job in the first place." She chuckled. "What about you?"

"Me? I guess you could say the same. My active service was up, and the _Tiburónes_ came around recruiting. They were smaller then, but they offered a chance to see the Inner Sphere. I figured it was better than patrolling the same old rocks for pirates, and waiting for the Fedrats."

"How long have you been with the unit?"

Antonio thought for a moment and counted with his fingers. "Seven years. It's been so long, now." He chuckled. "Of course, that's not as long as Islera. Ten years. There's a reason she's in charge."

"That, and _mi tío_ finally retired," the woman replied with a laugh. "Ha, my time here is nothing, compared to his. Twenty-seven years he was fighting," she said. "When he took command, the _Warhammer_ that Sev now pilots was a new purchase."

Antonio nodded. "I remember when I joined, that machine wasn't as mean as it is today." He chuckled. "And Jordão's _Black Knight_ didn't have that big shield. Oh, how times flies."

"A shield?" Hank asked curiously.

"Ah yes, he said every knight needed one." Antonio shook his head. "All it really does is make him slower. Though there was one time it deflected a gauss slug aimed for his head."

"And there's my _Marauder_. That was the only BattleMech _abuelo_ Vega had, when he started the unit."

"Surprisingly, it's only been upgraded recently," Antonio explained to the other mercenaries. "It still has the same sharky grin as always. I guess that started it all, eh, Islera?"

"Yeah. It's served us well, though."

"Sounds like your unit has a long history," Hank said.

"_Si_, and a solid one, too. If you ever feel like a change of pace, you should look us up," he said with a smile.

"Antonio," Islera scolded. "Don't go stealing sheeps from other pastures—or robbing cradles, you cad."

"I was not doing those things," he protested indignantly. "More baseless accusations from you."

"What do you think you are? Some kind of man-cougar? You've got ten years on the poor girl, so stop flirting with her."

"Man-cougar?" He chuckled and shrugged. "Really, now. I'm just being friendly."

"Ah, whatever." She rolled her eyes at him, and stood. "Well, _se__ñ__oritas_, you are probably both tired—not the least of him—so, let me show you to your lodging."

Randi got up to follow her. "Thank you. I would like to get some sleep before we start patrols, later."

"Same," Hank said with a chuckle. She smirked in amusement and gave a brief wave to Antonio, as they left.

* * *

_*__mi tío_ = "my uncle"

_*abuelo_ = "grandfather"_  
_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Hey... Rise and shine, beautiful."

Randi yawned and opened her eyes to see Fred sitting up beside her. He smiled as she woke and petted through her hair lightly. "Mm, what time is it?" she murmured, still not entirely lucid. "A-are we late?"

"It's afternoon, and no, we're not late for anything." He kissed her forehead lightly. "We've got half an hour before our unit's shift begins."

"Oh."

"I just thought you'd like to have some pancakes before we do anything. I'm sure the _Tiburónes_ have a kitchen around here somewhere."

"Thanks." To herself, she wondered if she should be grateful, though. _'He always claims that he is a lousy cook.'_

Fred grinned. "How about I go ahead and do that while you get ready?"

"Uh, sure." She smiled back, a little hesitantly.

He kissed her lightly and started getting dressed. "Oh, and I'll find out where we can have a skirmish exercise, now that the militia is here to keep an eye on things."

"A skirmish?" It was her turn to grin, now. "With whom?"

"I'm still working on that," he chuckled, as he pulled on his shirt, "but it will be interesting." With that as his final word, he blew a kiss to her and left.

Randi got up and began to dress, while he disappeared to the kitchen. She hoped that the field exercise would come together. She and Fred had worked well together, from the start. They favored similar tactics, placing an emphasis on maneuverability and precision. Both of them had also had formal military training, and understood when to take risks.

While Hank had shown herself to be a capable MechWarrior, she had only half the years of experience that Randi or Fred had accrued. _'Come to think of it, I do not know what kind of field experience she has had, either,'_ Randi realized. _'She mentioned participating in active combat... But how often? And against whom?'_ She shook her head. "No, Hank will be fine," she said aloud, to assure herself. Nikolai, on the other hand, needed all the help he could get.

Suddenly, there were a couple of yelps and cursing from outside. The door creaked open, soon after, and Fred peeked in with a smile. "Breakfast's ready. And I didn't burn the place down. ...Just my fingers a little."

"What happened?" she asked, concerned, as she took his hand.

"Ah, it's nothing. Just got into a fight with the skillet."

She kissed his fingers lightly. Really, she thought that applying ice would be more helpful. Spheroid cultures seemed to appreciate that sort of gesture, though.

He chuckled and smiled. "Thank you, dear. Well, breakfast is ready, and Hank and Nikolai should be there, waiting for us."

She sniffed the air lightly. "It smells good," she said, smiling in relief.

"Glad to hear it." He lead her to the fold-out tables that served as the mess hall, where Hank and Nikolai were waiting patiently for them. Fred had not lied; he made pancakes, however oblong they were. "Eat up. We have a big day... afternoon ahead of us."

"So, you were sayin' earlier about a field exercise?" asked Hank, as the commanders sat down at the table.

"Yes. I've talked to Islera about this and she agreed, we'll have a skirmish together."

"A skuh-mush?" repeated Nikolai curiously, already stuffing his mouth with pancakes.

"Mm-hm. It'll be a little something to get us working together. The _Tiburónes_ and the Vigilante Guard."

Hank nodded and smiled. "Sounds fun. They seem like a great unit. ...Even if their XO is a 'man-cougar,'" she said with a laugh.

Fred looked a little confused, but shook it away. "Well, don't worry. You'll now have a chance to hit on him—literally. Here's the catch to our little game... All of you will be under Islera's command, and her lance will be with me."

Nikolai's eyes widened. "I don't speak Spanish! I don't even speak Mandarin well!"

Hank turned and gave him a puzzled look. "I don't think that will be a problem, considering that none of _them_ speak Mandarin."

"Plus, Islera speaks English... So, unless you plan on taunting them, I don't think it will be a problem"

"Oh," he replied sheepishly.

"I'm curious to know... How did you fail to notice this, the entire time we were talking to her?"

"He probably thought his Spanish was getting better," Fred teased. "Well, we should finish up here. We'll be moving out in half an hour." He turned to Randi, and set his plate aside. "When you're finished, we'll go talk to Islera and Antonio."

She nodded and quickly finished her breakfast, though not nearly so fast as Nikolai.

"Dang, doesn't anyone ever feed you?" Hank mused, taking a sip of her tea.

"Sometimes, but not enough," the younger pilot replied, jokingly. The food seemed to have made a startling improvement in his attitude.

"If you keep eating like that, we'll have to cut your pay. Anyway, shall we?" Fred said, offering Randi a hand to help her up.

She nodded as she set her plate aside, and stood to join him. "So, who will be fighting alongside you?"

"We'll be trading everyone, so that would be... Antonio, Jordão, and Sevastian."

"Do you think you will be able to communicate with them well enough? The _Tiburónes_ speak a different dialect than you, yes?"

"If there are any problems, Antonio will help. We'll also have 20 minutes to come up with a strategy."

"Do we have an objective, or is this simply attrition?"

"Well, that's what we'll be talking to Islera about," Fred said as he knocked on the door to the makeshift HQ.

"_Entre_," she called from inside.

He opened the door for Randi and followed her inside. "_¡__Hola! ¿Como estas?_"

"_Bien, gracias. Ha sido un día sin nada especial. __¿Y cómo están usted y su corazón?_" Islera asked, standing to greet the two.

Fred smiled and replied, "_Bien._ We just had something to eat. My team seems excited to participate in this skirmish."

"Excellent!"

"Indeed. I think it will give us a chance to work together, and find our strengths and weaknesses. We just need to know what the objective will be."

"Hmm..." Islera heaved a sigh. "I suppose my lancemates might not appreciate it if I set out to kill them all, so a death match is out. _Es difícil..._" she muttered. "We are equally matched in number."

"Well, what if the objective is for one to attack and another to defend, or something like king of the hill? That way, the purpose wouldn't be to just kill each other."

"That would provide a simulation of what we might expect when battling the Lyrans," Randi added.

"Alright," Islera agreed. "There is a small mesa outside of town that we could use, without worry about stepping on peoples and things."

"So, who is attacking and who is defending?"

"How about we let fortune decide?" She reached into the pocket of her jacket and handed him a challenge coin. One side featured a relief of the Taurian Concordat's insignia and the motto of its defense force, while the other showed the red-filled gold ring of a subaltern. "I call heads, to attack."

"Okay," he replied, and tossed the coin into the air. He caught it on the descent, and flipped it over onto the back of his hand before speaking once more. "Ya know, fortune and I have had a love/hate relationship." Pulling back his hand, he revealed the coin, heads up. "And right now it hates me," he chuckled.

She grinned and held out her hand, as he offered the coin to her. "Ah, capybara, you have to roll with the punches," she said, tapping him on the shoulder with her fist. "I'll go get the others."

Fred chuckled lightly. "I'll make sure to do that," he said, with a smile. He turned to Randi, as Islera left and smirked. "I can trust that you won't go easy on me, right?"

She grinned. "I'm a Clanner, remember? No mercy."

* * *

"Alright, ladies, everyone ready?" Islera chimed over the comm.

Hank and Randi chorused a reply of, "Ready op," nearly drowning Nikolai's protest of, "I'm not a lady!"

"Okay, let's go kick their asses," she said with a chuckle. "Trust me, my lance could use a sound beating."

Hank's _Griffin_ turned towards Randi and seemed to give a shrug, as it formed up on Islera's left side. Randi pushed her _Mad Cat_ into a loping pace and came up alongside the Marauder, on the right. Nikolai wandered behind the trio.

"Hey, Kitten, form up. I'd think I don't have to tell you this," the _Tiburón_ scolded.

"Oh, uh, what formation?"

"Diamond."

"And that's...?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, _chico_. Now, quiet down. We're moving into the mission zone."

Nikolai quickly and quietly brought the _Shadow Cat_ in behind Islera, twisting its torso back and forth as he followed. The _Marauder_ plodded ahead slowly, partly due to its comparatively low speed, but mostly due to its pilot. Randi could tell that Islera was cautious of entering the area. As the defenders, Fred's team had been given a head start. They didn't know in advance where the attacking lance would enter the mission zone, but that would not necessarily stop them from laying a trap.

Keeping her promise to treat the simulation as a real battle, Randi had obliged Islera with some observations on Fred's favored tactics. The primary goal of the thing was, after all, to poke holes in one another's strategies. The larger, slower 'Mechs on his team would put a crimp in any attempt to use the typical hit-and-run style he preferred, but Islera fully expected him to attempt to lay the first strike.

Islera probably held a slight tactical advantage, Randi thought. She was the more experienced CO, and she had also known Fred's father. There was a good bet that any tricks Alejandro Acosta may have taught his son, he had taught his lance first.

As the quartet of 'Mechs marched on, the open country ended and a series of low hills began to crop up. Islera slowed, almost to a stop, and the others followed suit. She scanned the area carefully, then finally gave a short order over the comm. "Vixen, take point."

Hank acknowledged with a silent wave of her _Griffin's_ arm, and cantered ahead of the others. Islera began to move again, following the medium 'Mech at a normal cruising speed.

"Contact!" Hank exclaimed, suddenly. "Visual on a _Whammy_ and a _Dragon_, eight hundred meters," she continued, breathlessly. There was a roar over the comm as she fired her jumpjets. "Aw, dangit!"

Virtual autocannon and PPCs soared from the heavies smashing into her 'Mech mid flight. Upon landing, the _Griffin_ wobbled uneasily, but before she could regain her balance, a series of missiles hits from the _Dragon_ rocked her 'Mech. The medium 'Mech strained visibly against the blows, but its gyro failed to compensate for the force, and it toppled.

"Vixen!" Nikolai shouted as he fired his lasers. Computer generated beams connected with the _Dragon,_ and it shifted to represent a hit. With his target distracted, the younger pilot throttled up and sprinted over the hill. The Shadow Cat's nimble steps quickly brought it in range to provide Hank some cover from Sevastian's _Warhammer_.

"Fire at will!" Islera huffed, clearly displeased that the other team had caught hers by surprise. She charged up the nearest hill to its summit, and began firing her PPCs into the midst of the attackers. Randi hopped up beside her, and took a few pot shots at the _Warhammer_, before moving on to a better vantage point.

Missiles arched over the hill and slammed into Islera's former position, followed by a distant laser beam into the _Shadow Cat_. Nikolai fired back, but remained near the _Griffin_ to guard it. The _Warhammer_, meanwhile, began to close on Nikolai and Hank. As the _Griffin_ began to rise, it fired its PPCs, then twisted and razed armor points from part of the _Shadow Cat's_ torso with SRMs and paired medium lasers.

The _Griffin_ fired its jumpjets again, scoring a vicious parting shot on the side of the _Warhammer_. It rocked as the simulation calculated the hits and funneled the data into the BattleMech's systems. Its pilot, though, seemed undeterred. The big 'Mech loomed over the squat _Shadow Cat_, as it drew closer to make use of its mid-range weapons.

"Kitten, fall back!" Islera ordered, as she joined in pushing back the 70-tonner. "Mako will tear you apart!"

A mix of autocannon and missile fire forced Islera's _Marauder_ to twist away from the _Warhammer_, as Fred brought his _Dragon_ around at full speed. Fred's attack was followed up by another volley of distant LRMs on both Randi and Islera, and a large laser that glanced over Randi's arm. The combined long-range firepower seemed aimed at trying to keep the more powerful 'Mechs occupied.

Cut off from help, Nikolai continued fighting with the _Warhammer_. He fired his large lasers into the lumbering machine before trying to run behind it. As the two 'Mechs closed, the _Warhammer_ opened up with its short-range weapons; simulated machine gun rounds and small lasers chewed up the _Cat's_ armor followed by another salvo of SRMs. Nikolai kept his machine steady and fired off his own SRMs, the salvos glancing off the side of the taller machine.

Randi began to target the _Warhammer_, but soon noticed that Fred was moving to flank the small Clan 'Mech. She turned swiftly, bringing her Omni's gun pods to bear, and fired both of her ER PPCs. The computer traced the beam paths quickly, drawing one into the _Dragon's_ left shoulder, and the other squarely into its cockpit. Immediately, the BattleMech went limp and bowed, as the program locked up its controls.

"Target destroyed," the computer informed her coolly.

Following the "death" of his commander, "Mako" began to retreat, walking in reverse as he continued firing. Nikolai had taken the surprise kill as an opportunity to back off, and ducked into a gorge for cover. That spared him another barrage of short and mid-ranged weapons.

The _Warhammer_ didn't seem deterred, however, and searched for a new target. Spotting Hank's _Griffin_, he sent a pair of PPCs up towards her. She retaliated fiercely with both of her weapons, but quickly sought better cover. Islera, too, kept after it, slashing at its legs with all of her long-rage weaponry.

The simulation showed the extent of the battle damage by highlighting affected areas of a 'Mech in different colors, similar to the damage indicator on the HUD. Even after this short period of engagement, the _Warhammer's_ leg armor was already an alarming yellow color. Apparently, that was one of its weaker points. Hank obviously noticed this, too. Her next shot was directed low, and glanced off the _Warhammer's_ thigh, as she disappeared over a hill.

The _Warhammer_ came to a stop at the base of a steep hill and fired its PPCs again. It looked tired and beaten, based on its slowed movements, as heat buildup and damage took their toll. As if it were a tag team battle, Jordão's _Black Knight_ suddenly crested the hill and charged down at full speed to take the _Warhammer's_ place. Its large, custom shield covered its torso as it fired its large laser, piercing into the _Griffin_. Behind it, Antonio's _Catapult_ took up a position at the top of the hill, lighting off another salvo of missiles.

The training program traced a series of missiles impacting Randi on the side and head of her 'Mech. Before she could respond, the 'Mech shook violently and the controls become unresponsive. "Warning. Damage critical: standard cockpit. Warning. System malfunction: life support," the computer replied blandly. She felt quite fortunate that none of those things had actually occurred.

The HUD, still active, showed that all armor had been stripped from Nyx's head. Randi supposed that the _Mad Cat's_ bulbous, front-facing cockpit did not help her chances of avoiding this kind of thing. Finally, after toggling the control sticks and peddles, the simulation relinquished proper control to her. That must have been its way of imitating a pilot KO situation.

Hurriedly, she jumped to the next hill to avoid letting Antonio cash in on his strike. Below her, the _Warhammer_ limped away, in a desperate bid to retreat. Islera seemed determined not to let it escape, however, and gave one more volley before turning to deal with the fresher 'Mechs. One of the shots tore into the _'Hammer's_ knee, crippling it. The heavy 'Mech fell as its actuators locked, but Sevastian attempted to prop himself up with one arm and continue the fight.

Nikolai broke from cover to exploit the damage Islera had dealt to the _Warhammer_, but it was still dangerous. One PPC soared high into the air, but the collection of lasers in the 70-tonner's torso bored into the _Shadow Cat_. Nikolai responded with a pair of large lasers, removing more torso armor points from the larger 'Mech. Virtual SRMs streaked from both machines, but Nikolai was hit first. Responding to the "damage," the _Shadow Cat_ suddenly came to a stop and shut down. The _Warhammer_ had survived, but not by much. The program marked its right torso and arm as completely destroyed.

Hank burst from cover again, this time leaping over the _Warhammer_, and taking a quick shot at the _Black Knight's_ back. Her medium 'Mech did not dissipate heat very well, though, and it was clear that her heat sinks were saturated. She hastily dumped some of her coolant to buy herself enough leeway to jump again.

The Black Knight turned and pulled away its shield, revealing a bank of lasers mounted in its chest, and fired them all. As the lasers began to chew at Hank's 'Mech, an unfamiliar voice came over the general frequency.

"Islera, this is Spork. The Elsies have cut Hartsburg's power."

"_¿Qué? ¡Cómo?_" she demanded, as all the 'Mechs on the field came to a sudden halt. "_¿Dónde están?_"

"_No sé_... There was a brief riot, but city authorities quelled it and rounded up the instigators. It would be best if everyone returns to camp."

"_Convine. Mi lanza, me sigue. Vamos,_" she ordered. The other _Tiburón_ pilots quickly killed the sim program, and trotted off to join their commander.

Fred's 'Mech, too, came back online and stood. "Looks like fun time is over. Everyone, form up on me."


	17. Chapter 17

Notes: _Apologies for being a week late on the update. Hopefully, this will make up for it._

* * *

Chapter 17

When the two lances arrived back at the base camp, "Spork" was already waiting for them. A gaunt, _Hatchetman_ in _Tiburón_ colors stood in one of the gantries. The BattleMech looked somewhat weather-worn, but its blade gleamed cleanly.

The 'Mechs of Islera's lance filed into the gantries, with the Vigilante Guard close behind them. All were quick to disembark, and make their way to the ground, where another MechWarrior greeted them. Randi cocked her head a little as he approached; tall and thinnish, with dark circles under his eyes, Spork reminded her quite a bit of the 'Mech he piloted.

"Subaltern," he said with a nod to Islera. "Got some good news and bad news, for you."

"Give me the bad news first..." she said with a sigh.

The man kicked a small rock in idle frustration, and sighed. "Damn Elsies took out our ground sonar."

Fred leaned over to the other commander, surprised. "We had a ground sonar set up? Can it be fixed?"

Spork gave a stifled snort. "When Ah say they took it out, Ah mean they lit'rally _took out_ the major components. Ain't nothin' we can do now, unless you want to put your ear to the ground an' listen for 'em."

"Then they are sure to be here, soon," Antonio voiced what everyone was thinking.

The lance commander nodded. "Good news is, the blackout hasn't caused too much trouble. Hartsburg's emergency services and hospital have backup generators runnin', and the techs got ours online, too."

Islera nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"Wait, you said that you had ground sonar... to detect approaching 'Mechs, yes?" asked Randi.

"Yeah. It was calibrated to detect anything ten tons, or more."

Randi bit her lip. "Then they must have infantry. Skilled infantry, at that."

"_Todos,_" Islera said, immediately turning to her lance, "_c__onsigue sus armas_." Catching a curious look from the other mercs, she explained, "Standard unit procedure. Infantry squads just love to pick off MechWarriors who punch out."

"Yeah, that, uh... that sounds like a prudent measure," Fred agreed. "So, do you have any scouts in the field, now?"

"Yeah. Hooker an' Meat Pie are out there. The militia pilots traded off with me an' Carbón. She's fixin' to reload, now."

"Would you like us to assist in the patrol?" Randi offered.

"Randi and I can go first and pair up with Lt. Raynes and her lancemate," Fred said. "When we get back, Vixen and Kitten can take over, along with whoever you'd like to send out."

Islera nodded. "I think that would be wise. Joshua's lance needs some rest." She gave Fred a brief pat on the shoulder, and then waved to the others, and chuckled. "Remember, if you spot the Lyrans, don't hog all the kills to yourself, capybara."

"Ha, I'll remember." As the _Tiburónes_ left, he turned back to his lancemates. "You two have been awfully quiet."

Nikolai just shrugged looking somewhat anxious, while Hank frowned a little. "Didn't have much to say, sir." She looked out over the horizon, apparently preoccupied.

"Thinking about your 'Mech? Heh, I'm sure Ned's fixing the hell out of it, as we speak."

Her expression turned a little uneasy at that. "Probably."

Fred nodded and cracked a smile. "Sorry. I guess I'm not very good at this whole team morale thing, yet. Just be glad I don't break out the cheer uniform." He glanced over at Randi and smirked. "Or maybe something spandex?"

"What about just... naked? Is naked an option?" she asked.

Nikolai put his face in his hand and shuddered. "Wow. Thanks, guys. I... I really didn't need that."

"You are most welcome," Fred replied with a laugh.

* * *

Randi stirred awake as a draft chilled her arm. She rubbed her eyes a little and looked around, as she pawed for the blanket. According to the clock, only an hour had passed since she and Fred had turned in for the night. It felt like far more time. With a yawn, she began to pull the sheet up over her shoulder, only to feel it slip from her hand quickly.

She turned over to see that Fred was wrapped up in the sheets. "Hey," she muttered, shaking his shoulder gently, "you're taking all the sheets..."

He jerked away from her hand and kicked blindly, sending the sheets over the edge of the bed.

"Fred?"

Hearing his name, he turned to face her swiftly, snapping awake. His eyes were open, but he seemed confused and nervous. "Wha— Randi? Where...?"

"You're in our quarters. In bed," she explained. "Are you... alright?"

"Yeah," he replied somewhat stiffly. "I just got too warm, I guess."

"You seemed upset," she prodded.

"I... It was just a bad dream," he replied, gathering up the sheets and spreading them back over their small bed.

Randi kissed his shoulder lightly in concern. "Something's bothering you. I haven't seen upset like this, before."

He heaved a tired sigh, lying back next to her, again. "Do you ever feel like you're fighting the same battle, and worry it'll have the same outcome?"

"I can't say that I have." She laid her head on his chest gently. "Why?"

"Because I feel like I've fought this before... and I didn't like how it ended." Fred was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful if somewhat regretful. "It was garrison duty. You know: sitting behind a big wall, watching and waiting for nothing. That nothing turned into a series of raids, and ended in a single, decisive battle. We won, but..." He paused again. "It really didn't feel like a victory. I nearly lost the _Bushwacker_, and I lost a MechWarrior."

She bit her lip gently. "I'm so sorry..."

"No, don't be," he kissed her forehead lightly and shook his head. "That pilot's not dead—except to me. I'm glad she's gone, anyway. She nearly ruined the Vigilante Guard."

Randi stroked his cheek lightly. "But you're still worried?"

He sighed again. "I shouldn't be, I know." He gave her faint smile. "I guess it all worked out for the best, anyway. If not for that battle, we wouldn't have met."

She nodded and kissed his lips reassuringly. "We'll get through this."

"Yeah," he said with a smile, returning the kiss. "I have a much better lancemate this time."

* * *

A fierce pounding echoed in Randi's ears as she stomped down on the throttle, racing along the mesa. She couldn't tell, now, if it was the thundering sound of _Nyx's_ feet pawing at the ground or her heart beating wildly in her chest. Maybe it was both. She felt strange, as if remembering a dream. Perhaps she still was dreaming, and not fully roused from sleep. The klaxons, the barked orders over the comm to scramble, and the sirens wailing in Earhardt just seemed like a haze of noise that might be imagined. She did remember kissing Fred goodbye—quickly—before they parted ways. That was certainly real.

Suddenly, there was a sharp ping from her instrument panel. This, she knew, was also not imagined. "Enemy detected," the computer reported dutifully, as her HUD displayed the image of a _Whitworth_.

Hank's voice came over the comm next. "Contact, two klicks out! Visual on a Lyran _Whitworth_. It's closing fast."

"Copy that, Vixen. You are clear to engage," she replied, glancing out the side of her cockpit to the smaller _Griffin_ which ran abreast of her 'Mech. The fog of sleep wearing off now, as the adrenaline surged into her veins.

"Roger that, Black Wolf." Bursts of flame illuminated the _Griffin_, as Hank took a sharp right turn and leapt over the edge of the Hartsburg mesa. Twisting _Nyx's_ torso quickly, Randi could see the other woman land her 'Mech on the ledge of another nearby mesa before sprinting ahead.

To the south, two of the _Tiburónes_ were already engaged with the enemy. Spork and Carbón had spotted them first, and called it in. Like typical, stubborn Taurians, they managed to trade a few shots with the Lyrans before fleeing to a better position. The thunder munitions that Carbón was purportedly fond of would certainly upset someone's day, but she and her lance leader were hardly a match for the attackers. Along with the _Whitworth_ and its partner _Clint_, they had reported a full lance of heavies. Leading that was an unspecified assault 'Mech. Of course, no one expected that this was the sum of the Gacrux force.

While the scouts retreated back to join the allied units, the _Black Knight_ and _Warhammer_ took their positions at the front line. Tigre and Mako had been among the first to respond to the scramble. This was fortunate, considering their low top speed. Islera had insisted from the beginning that defense of the main road was a top priority. If the two _Tiburón_ heavies couldn't stall the Lyrans until the other defenders were in place, the city might easily be overrun. Together, they had just enough long range firepower to deter the enemy 'Mechs—but not for long.

As Randi rushed to find and engage the _Whitworth's_ lancemate, she could see Antonio taking up a firing position on the ridge. The _Catapult_ paced back and forth, trying to get tracking on the enemy forces. In the pre-dawn light, that was no easy task. Nearby, Raynes and her compatriot stood their ground, waiting for a target—any target—to enter their weapons' range.

Islera, meanwhile, was moving to join the rest of her lance. She made her way down the rammed earth bridge slowly, trying to keep her _Marauder_ hoof-like feet sure on the slick asphault. "All units, this is Islera," she thundered over the comm. "Hold your positions. No matter what, we cannot let them break our line." Following that, she seemed to give the same order in Spanish.

A chorus of "roger" and "_entendido_" filled the comm, as each 'Mech moved into position. Fred and Nikolai were still out of sight, waiting for the Lyran units to move closer, before surprising them with a charge. Behind them, Hooker and Meat Pie stood on a low ridge, ready to provide cover fire with their _Centurion_ and _Trebuchet_.

Without warning, a blue flash lit up the dark battlefield. PPC and laser fire from the _Tiburónes'_ heavies bore into the enemy line, as the Lyrans advanced. Islera added two more PPC bolts to the fray, before the Lyrans could reply with several salvos of LRMs. Most of the warheads missed, slamming harmlessly into the desert dirt around the command lance. The Lyrans couldn't afford to miss, though, and the next salvos would surely be more accurate.

Randi adjusted her grip on the control sticks of her 'Mech, as she watched the exchange for a moment to asses the situation. Since no one appeared to need help, yet, she continued tracking the medium 'Mechs. Her black-painted _Mad Cat_ blended easily with the deep shadows of the rocks, as it stalked over the mesa. The terrain below was a maze of gullies and rock spires, which she was quite against entering. It was a very long way down, and there was no way to get back up onto the mesas.

When she neared the ledge, a flash of pale blue amidst the red dirt caught her eye. Swiftly, she pitched her 'Mech's torso down, scanning for her target. A _Clint_ suddenly appeared on her radar, as she trained her sights on the medium 'Mech.

The _Clint_ appeared completely oblivious to the 75-ton OmniMech, as it trotted through the valley below. It scanned the surrounding terrain, searching for any hidden units that would disrupt their designs on the city. A PPC blast from the _Griffin_ caught its attention, though, as Hank started to rip into its partner. The medium 'Mech jerked around, and started to run to the _Whitworth's_ aid.

As soon as its back was to her, Randi flicked her finger against the trigger, sending a bright bolt of energy searing into the _Clint's_ back. It staggered, then careened into another turn, as it tried to identify its assailant. By that time, the _Mad Cat_ had disappeared back over the ledge, moving to flank it. The C_lint_, discovering where the shot had originated, returned the attack with a couple of fierce autocannon blasts. Though the ordnance missed her this time, it would have proved painful had she been any slower to move. Unable to land a damaging blow, the _Clint_ began to zig-zag quickly, retreating in a bid to avoid any further devastating hits.

Randi stalked around the the mesa quickly, waiting for another opening to stab at her target. Hank, meanwhile, danced around the edge of the cliff, allowing the heat from her main weapon to dissipate before firing again. The PPC certainly afforded her more of a punch than her _Quickdraw's_ medium lasers, but that came at a cost. A shot of that weapon alone was proving enough to completely saturate her heat sinks.

While she waited to strike, the _Whitworth_ sent a flurry of LRMs in her direction. A quick burst of her jumpjets saved Hank from the missiles' bite, leaving them to tear at the cliff's edge. In the time it took her to find a more stable part of the ledge, however, the 40-tonner had escaped into cover. Soon after it disappeared, the _Clint_ rushed in to attack. Brazenly, it fired its autocannon at the larger medium, and landed a glancing blow.

Moving quickly to assist her lancemate, Randi fired off both ER PPCs at the _Clint_. One beam struck it in the leg, but the other missed. Serious damage had not been done, but it did make the Lyran pilot reconsider their position. The _Clint_ backed away quickly, and ran behind an outcropping of rock for protection.

Hank paced back and forth, clearly frustrated at having lost her track on the opposing 'Mechs. Randi was a bit more relaxed about it. _'You cannot hide forever,'_ she mused, waiting patiently for the mediums to show themselves again


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Islera grumbled a little to herself as the comm went silent. Though she would have been perfectly happy to see the Lyrans pack up and leave, she never really doubted that they would indeed assault Hartsburg. She had a feeling that their commander was stubborn. Unfortunately for them, she could be even more bull-headed when necessary. They weren't going to get Wyatt without paying for it dearly.

She had faith in her unit and, she had to admit, a good amount of faith in her allies. Despite her initial misgivings, Fred Acosta had shown himself to be an able leader and MechWarrior. She trusted that whatever the Lyrans threw at his unit, Fred would handle it. She was somewhat less confident about Lieutenant Raynes. All the better that the inexperienced militia officer was providing fire support, instead of tactical decisions.

Glancing back at the ridge, she could see her XO pacing back and forth, as he tried to spy out approaching targets. "_Everyone_," she called to her lancemates in Spanish, over the comm. "_They'll be in range soon. Get ready._"

"_Sim_, _comandante,_" Jordão replied, lapsing back into Portuguese, as he sometimes did when distracted. The _Black Knight_ scrambled up a low hill, trying to find a position that offered good visibility.

Sevastian just murmured, "_E__ntiendo_," as he brought his _Warhammer_ to a stop and steeled himself for the opening volley.

She narrowed her eyes, peering into the darkness, and readied her fingers at the triggers. Easing back on the throttle, she continued forward slowly as the _Marauder's_ hoof-like feet drummed out a steady _clomp clomp clomp_. _'Alright, you bastards. Show yourselves.'_

Rising over the ridge on two fiery plumes was a BattleMech that looked eerily similar to her own. However, its jumpjets, almost vestigial wings, and its massive dorsal gun gave it away as the _Marauder's_ 100-ton big brother. It shook the ground as it landed, and was followed by a trio of heavy 'Mechs. One of them lagged behind the others, having suffered leg damage already.

As the Lyran lance came into range, Islera brought her crosshairs over the monstrous _Marauder II_ and fired. Twin bolts of energy smashed into the Lyran assault 'Mech, one in its torso and the other into one of its wings. Mako followed up with his own pair of particle cannons, striking the 'Mech in its legs, and the Lyran returned fire on him with its autocannon. The round glowed in the early morning darkness as closed on his _Warhammer_ before it burst into a cluster of heavy pellets. The pellets pinged off his armor, each one softening it up for further punishment from the _Marauder II's_ PPCs. The other Lyrans followed suit with a volley of missile fire.

"Martillo," she called to her XO, "_give 'em hell!_"

"_Roger that._"

Two flights of LRMs soared over her head and crashed down onto the top of the MAD II, blistering away ferro-fibrous. As the invaders approached, the _Black Knight_ raked its large laser over an approaching _Guillotine_. As the 70-tonner retaliated, Tigre raised his shield, deflecting a few glancing missiles as most of the salvo rushed past it.

The _Guillotine_ then jumped aside, attempting to flank Tigre. Mako had his lancemate covered, though, and fired a stream of SRMs into the Lyran 'Mech. The _Guillotine_ jumped again to keep clear of their weapons. While the two _Tiburónes_ kept their focus on the jumping 70-tonner, both were hit by LRMs from the enemy _Thunderbolt_. The Lyrans continued advancing, unwittingly moving into the killzone of the two LRM carriers and _Archers_.

A hail of warheads crashed down onto the approaching lance, clawing the Lyrans' armor and the rocks around them. The _Thunderbolt_ pushed its throttle to maximum, dodging perhaps a few of the missiles aimed at it, but not one of Islera's PPCs. The _Guillotine_, meanwhile, jumped forward under the arc of the LRMs. An _Orion_ brought up the rear of the Lyran formation, hobbling a little, and began to change course.

"_Nice work, everyone,_" Islera radioed the tanks, ripping at the approaching Guillotine with her AC/5. "_Keep up the pressure._" The invaders' formation was starting to break. If the fire support could fracture the lance, it would be easier to pick them off.

As the smoke cleared, Antonio called their attention. "_I mark another heavy lance moving up the southwest... 1400 meters. Shall I signal Mayhem_?"

"_More of them? _Mierda_... Yeah, tell him to engage immediately. I don't want them coming to give us trouble, too._"

"Roger." Antonio responded and sent a tightbeam signal to Fred's _Dragon_. Immediately, missile fire came from the his location on the mesa ridge, striking the second lance. The _Marauder II_ of the first lance twisted to glance at the new onslaught of missiles. It snapped back as Mako struck it again, and fired a concentrated blast of its cannons. The shots from its PPCs melted the thin armor off the _Warhammer's_ leg and hip, revealing its myomer muscles and endo-steel structure before a solid slug snapped the bone. Mako twisted his 'Mech to shift its weight onto the good leg, but it was too late. Seventy tons of armor and weapons toppled over, landing on one of its arms and bending the PPC barrel ungracefully.

"Mako!" Islera exclaimed.

"Nng... _I-I'm okay,_" Sevastian replied. The _Warhammer_ squirmed, trying to prop itself up with its bent arm. "_I might be able to fight, still._"

"_I can cover him,_" Jordão offered.

"Ay,_ fine. Do it,_" she replied, racking the approaching _Guillotine_ with her PPCs.

The _Guillotine_ approached quickly, dodging another pack of missiles from the LRM Carriers, and a scarred _Grasshopper_ approached from the second lance to provide backup.

Tigre moved his shield aside and ran headlong to cut off the approaching Lyrans. He swiped at the _Guillotine_ with his medium lasers, and struck its ally with his large laser. The _Grasshopper_ stumbled back a little, and launched a salvo of LRMs in return. A quick dash behind the crest of a hill spared The _Black Knight_ from anything worse than a shower of dust and pebbles, and it quickly reappeared beside its lancemate.

With Mako down, and Tigre protecting him, the threat of being flanked was now quite real. The _Guillotine_ and _Grasshopper_ approached the two quickly and opened up with their lasers. Hurriedly, Jordão brought up his shield to fend off their attack. Although it provided a great deal of protection, the defensive bonus came at the expense of offensive capabilities. The shield not only slowed him immensely when in use, but prevented him from using half of his weapons. Sevastian, however, could still use his 'Mech's good arm to make up for this. As the _Guillotine_ and _Grasshopper_ approached, Sevastian opened up with his _Warhammer's_ short-ranged weapons, along with the _Black Knight's_ lasers. Although most of the shots missed, it pushed the two Lyrans back for the moment.

Following the barrage from the allied fire support, the _Marauder II_ had fallen back into cover. The _Orion_ had disappeared entirely, and the _Thunderbolt_ was retreating, as well. Islera hardly felt that she had them on the ropes, though. They were only licking their wounds and, as the _Grasshopper's_ arrival proved, reorganizing. She kept a careful watch on her radar, but gave more immediate attention to the nearby pair of heavies.

"Hey!" she shouted at the two Lyrans over the general frequency, to get their attention. With limited mobility, her lancemates could only hold off the attackers for so long on their own. "_Idiotas!_ Over here!" She tore into the _Grasshopper_ with a PPC for added emphasis. "What's wrong? You two Sweiners lose your balls or something? Afraid to come fight?" Islera grinned as the two 'Mechs turned, and ripped into the _Guillotine's_ left torso with her autocannon.

* * *

From his vantage point on a low hill, Fred could see the entirety of the _Tiburónes'_ command lance, and the two militia _Archers_. The Lyrans, however, had not yet shown themselves. He could knew they were getting closer, though, as Antonio kept changing the pitch of his arm-mounted LRM launchers. He also knew that the signal to charge into the Lyran line, and break up their formation would come soon.

Watching the monitors in his cockpit carefully for the beacon that would give him the go ahead, he raised the left arm of his _Dragon_, ready to signal Nikolai and the two _Tiburón_ 'Mechs behind him. It was a clear signal, and saved him from fumbling to remember what Spanish command should be given to commence the attack.

He glanced over to Nikolai, to see how the younger pilot was doing. The _Shadow Cat_ remained hunkered down in amongst the rocks, still for the most part. Even as he stood, though, the Omni swayed and twitched faintly. Over time, MechWarriors learned to unconsciously make fine adjustments to their balance and keep their machines steady. Veterans like Islera could hold a 'Mech perfectly still while their eyes were closed—something many people couldn't do on their own two feet.

However, Fred could tell that inexperience was not the sole cause of this fidgeting. More than once, Nikolai had crouched, and then stood again. The tension of waiting was clearly agitating him, and with a radio silence order in effect, there was no way to offer encouragement.

Any hopes to help the younger MechWarrior ended when a red light flickered on his HUD. He threw down the _Dragon's_ arm and let loose a salvo of missiles, followed quickly by bursts of LRMs from Hooker and Meat Pie. Fred didn't look to see if any of the missiles hit. His attention was elsewhere, as he run full speed into battle, looking for a target to ravage.

As he ran along a snaking ridge, Fred could see the approaching 'Mechs canter through the gorges below. It was a full lance of heavies, lead by a _Zeus_. Fortunately, he had spotted them, first. Unfortunately, they were not where Spork had reported any Lyrans to be. This was a second group that the _Tiburónes_ had only now detected.

He briefly considered a _Grasshopper_ as the Lyrans approached, before it leapt into the air to avoid his attack. In mid-flight, it was caught by twin beams. One glanced off its leg and another bore into its right torso, destroying a medium laser. Fred glanced back to see that it was Nikolai who scored the hits.

Fred darted through the gorge quickly, looking to pick another target. As he neared a gap between the rocks, a pale blue 'Mech appeared ahead of him. The blocky torso and barrel arms gave it away as an _Orion_, even before the computer confirmed it. Eager to get out of its sights, he hit the throttle to slip past it.

"_¡Parada!_" an unfamiliar woman shouted over the comm. "_¡No vaya adelante!_"

Fred leaned the stick hard to the left, putting his 'Mech into a swift turn away from his intended path. "_¿__Por qué?_" he asked. From the fact that she was speaking Spanish and her accent, he surmised that it must be one of the _Tiburónes_, and decided to heed the warning.

Quickly putting all thoughts about the person's identity aside, he observed the _Orion_. The 'Mech was a beast compared to his _Dragon_, and could dole out far more punishment than he could. At one time in history, this chassis had been the premier command 'Mech, and there was good reason for that. He noticed, however, that this machine was already damaged. The mechanical toes of its right foot were blown off, leaving melted and charred metal scraps curling back into the leg.

'_Mines_.' "Thanks," he said aloud the comm to the unknown pilot, as he dodged AC/10 rounds. Fred replied to the heavier 'Mech with his own, lighter autocannon. His shots were focused on its right leg and foot, trying to topple the 75-tonner. If he was lucky, it might even land on another mine.

"You're welcome," the same woman replied.

The _Orion_ fired a flurry of SRMs into Fred's 'Mech, peppering his torso armor with damage. As he recovered, he saw that the _Orion_ had turned to protect its maimed foot, but kept its torso twisted to bring all of its weapons to bear. Autocannon shells punched into the _Dragon's_ chest, shedding armor and rocked the machine. Fred grimaced as the harness dug into his shoulders, though he was certainly glad to have it.

He fired back hastily with his medium lasers, but only one glanced off the blocky torso of the _Orion_. Looking for options, Fred glanced at his radar. It was then, that he noticed a friendly 'Mech approaching, and fast.

A _Vindicator_ rushed past him along a low ridge, and blasted the _Orion's_ injured leg with its PPC. Clearly, the other pilot had picked up on his idea. Even the upgraded VND-3L was known to be a painfully slow medium 'Mech, equal in speed to both the _Dragon_ and _Orion_. With the latter's wounded limb slowing it, however, the pilot had just enough speed to slip by without being torn to pieces.

The _Orion_ twisted to fire on the medium, but the rapid shift in weight on its wounded leg caused it to buckle and collapse. The large 'Mech shook the earth when it hit the ground. Its left arm landed on a mine, separating it from the rest of its body, and the impact detonated the numerous ammo bins in its body.

Fred backpedled his 'Mech and looked away, to avoid being blinded by the ensuing conflagration. The explosions from the LRM and SRM ammo bins were powerful enough to turn the _Orion_ onto its back. Only charred remains were left to gaze into the sky.

* * *

Note: Since things have been fairly calm, I've decided to re-enable anonymous reviews. I really do enjoy thoughtful, constructive critique and comments about the story, and I'd like everyone to have the chance to share their opinion. So, please-don't make me regret it by posting _increasingly creepy_ questions about the personal hygiene regimens of _fictional characters_.


	19. Chapter 19

Notes:_ I've set up a poll (availabl_e_ on my profile) regarding comes after BW4. I'm bouncing around several ideas, and I'd like to get an idea of what my readers are interested in seeing, to help me make a decision._

_And thanks to all the reviewers for the steady feedback! Nice to hear from you again, KZ!_

* * *

Chapter 19

Nikolai wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, as perspiration began to bead on his skin. The cockpit was uncomfortably warm, thanks to the poor heat conductivity of Wyatt's atmosphere. It was anxiousness, however, that was making him sweat. He put the 'Mech into a crouch for stability, and let let go of the control sticks for a moment. His knuckles were white now, from gripping too tightly, but flexing his fingers a few times seemed to help the blood circulate again.

_'Just relax,'_ he told himself. _'This is no different than what you've been doing all along. Just have to keep moving, and keep firing. Just stick to the plan, and everything will be fine.'_

As he put his hands back on the controls, he glanced up in time to see Fred give the signal. With that, the _Dragon_ thundered off over the ridge, and then made its way down into the gorge to fight. He sprang up from his crouched position and pushed the throttle to maximum, following his commander. In the rear arc of his viewscreen, he could see their _Tiburónes_ allies, Hooker and Meat Pie, moving to engage the Lyrans.

Feeling a little more confident in the presence of more experienced MechWarriors, he crested the ridge where Fred had been, and quickly scanned for targets. As he turned eastward, the computer abruptly informed him of a _Grasshopper_. It was in range, and it was looking in his direction. A little startled, his swung the _Shadow Cat's_ torso around to face the much larger machine, and brought its barrel arms up to fire. Something seemed to spook the 'Mech, though, and it took to the air on its jumpjets.

Nikolai decided to take advantage of its distraction and slowed, tracking the blue 'Mech through its flight. He kept his targeting reticule just slightly ahead of it, as Fred had taught him, and pulled back on the trigger as it reached the apex of the jump. Two green beams shot out from the _Cat's_ large laser barrels, straight to the enemy.

"Yes!" He grinned, pleased with himself, as he saw the green ER beam strike it in the torso. The other only nicked the _Grasshopper's_ leg, but he wasn't going to complain about that.

The Lyran returned fire with a flight of LRMs, but the hasty shot missed his 'Mech. As the _Grasshopper_ landed, it came under fire from salvos of LRMs, forcing it to jump back to a different position. The 'Mech didn't run from the fight, though, but moved from cover to cover as the pilot calculated their options. There was probably backup on the way, now.

Not particularly eager to duel with a machine that outweighed his by twenty-five tons, Nikolai backed down behind the ridge. He caught a glimpse of a dark blue _Trebuchet_ as it blitzed the heavier chassis with some running hits. The _Grasshopper_ replied with a spray of medium lasers, searing the 50-tonner's armor. That didn't seem to faze the _Tiburón_, though; he just bit back at his opponent with his own lasers.

A sudden flash of tracers and shrapnel lit the back of the _Grasshopper_, as an A/C 10 blast pounded its more vulnerable side. The _Grasshopper_ turned and fired its jets to fall back. It fired its large laser and LRMs as it retreated to better cover, scoring hits on the _Centurion_, scraping off some of the attacker's torso armor. More LRMs soared through the air at the _Tiburónes'_ 'Mechs, as a pale blue _Thunderbolt_ appeared to cover the _Grasshopper_. For a moment, Nikolai felt his heart skip a beat. The heavy 'Mech was bristling with lasers and missiles, and firepower to shred the lighter 'Mechs at any range. Along with the _Grasshopper_, the Lyran duo completely out-massed the _Tiburónes_.

"_¡Ayuda!_" one of the mercenaries barked over the comm. They broke for cover among the rocks as the _Thunderbolt_ charged forward.

He didn't know the word, but he could guess the order. Fred was nowhere in sight, which left him as the only other 'Mech in the area. Gathering some courage, Nikolai gunned the throttle and darted up over the ridge to attack. His first shot went wide as the _Cat_ stumbled a little over the rocky ground, but the second hit its mark.

The laser left a glowing gash in the torso of the heavier machine, as armor bubbled down over its torso. Changing its course _Thunderbolt_ charged towards Nikolai, and opened up with its trio of medium lasers and its SRMs. Two of the lasers melted armor off the _Shadow Cat's_ torso while the two SRMs slammed into its left leg, damaging the knee actuator.

The laser attack made him reel for a moment, but the blast of missiles created the real damage. It was as if someone had kicked him right in the kneecap. He felt no pain, but his balance faltered as if he had actually been struck. He returned fire, desperate to defend himself as he began to sink. A mass of his SRMs hit the _Thunderbolt_ squarely in its broad chest, as the _Cat_ slammed into the dirt on its side. Seeing him fall, the _Trebuchet_ and _Centurion_ burst from the rocks to distract the heavy 'Mech. Deciding they were a greater threat than the prone _Shadow Cat,_ it turned and loped off to give chase.

It was difficult enough for a pilot to right his 'Mech without lower arm actuators. The damaged knee only compounded this problem. The cockpit started to feel ever closer and warmer inside, as Nikolai felt his nervousness growing. Laying out in the open, prone on the battlefield, was the last position in which any MechWarrior wanted to find themselves.

As he struggled to bring his 'Mech back to a standing position, he noticed that the radar kept giving him fleeting signals. They were far too small for an approaching 'Mech, or even a light vehicle, and flickered oddly. He gave an anxious, frustrated huff and pounded a fist on his instrument panel. It was bad enough that he could never use the 'Mech's MASC, and now he was plagued by sensor ghosts. He reasoned that the active probe must have been damaged in the fall, somehow.

Licking his lips faintly, he jostled the control sticks a little and tried to work the _Shadow Cat_ into an angle more conducive to standing. As he moved, a sudden blast rocked his 'Mech lightly, but there were no enemies marked on the sensors. When he looked past the feeds on his HUD, he saw movement on the ground.

The early morning light made it hard to tell what the small thing was, at first. Toggling his zoom window, he could see a man standing up among the rocks, about to lob another explosive charge at him. There were a few more men to his side with weapons focused on the _Shadow Cat_ as they drew closer, swarming around the fallen OmniMech.

He let out a strangled yelp, and stomped down on the throttle pedals. The _Cat_ pawed at the ground wildly, trying to gain enough purchase to stand. He shuddered as another blast hit the 'Mech, closer to the cockpit, this time.

'_What was I thinking? What the HELL was I thinking?_' he panicked. '_I can't do this. I shouldn't be here. I'm not a MechWarrior. I can't do this!_'

As he struggled, an infantry-grade machine gun opened up on him, spraying bullets across the torso and cockpit, and scuffing up the ferro-glass. Under cover from the machine gunner, the soldiers closed in on him. Normally, they would be no threat to a BattleMech. If they could manage to swarm one of the metal beasts, however, it would be all but defenseless under their attacks. Up close, infantry could destroy actuators and weapon systems—and even the pilot.

He recoiled from the blast of machine gun fire, putting his hands up over his face instinctively as the bullets rattled the ferro-glass. As soon as he realized that the canopy held, he scrambled again to get the _Shadow Cat_ standing.

'_I never should have left Capolla!_'

In desperation, he slammed down on his jumpjets. There was a slim chance that this might help, and a bigger chance that the move could make things worse. He decided it was worth the risk. As the jumpjets kicked on, hot bursts of flame shoved his 'Mech forward, scraping its side against the rock. He heard a weapon discharge, but it didn't seem to hit him; he hoped that meant he had cooked one or two of the Lyrans. The jets continued to burn, forcing him into a half-standing position. That was just enough for him to regain control of his balance, and shift the 'Mech's weight onto its undamaged leg. As soon as he managed this, he found himself rising into the air gently.

The Omni landed again with a thud as he killed the jumpjets, and stood solidly on its feet. Before he could celebrate, however, he realized that he had not yet solved all of his problems. One of the soldiers had managed to hang on to the 'Mech with a magnetic grapple. Swinging around to the cockpit, he stuck a small sticky-charge onto the damaged ferro-glass and raised an assault rifle. In a brief moment, the charge detonated, sending shards of glass into the cockpit that lodged in the kevlar armor of Nikolai's coolant vest.

He wanted to cringe as the spray of glass cut up his exposed arms, but the looming, fatigues-clad figure held his attention. The infantryman grabbed onto the edge of the cockpit frame to steady himself, and brought up the rifle with his other hand. Almost on impulse, Nikolai slammed down on the throttle pedals, hurtling the _Shadow Cat_ into a wild run. The soldier flailed as the 'Mech jerked forward suddenly, buying Nikolai just enough time to grab the pistol that Fred had given him.

He wanted desperately to look away, but he knew he could never land a shot blindly. Feeling his heart race in fear, he kept his eyes on the infantryman, and pulled back on the trigger. The first shot must have hit the other man's armor; he yelped in pain at the impact, but it didn't stop him from bringing his rifle to bear.

* * *

Loping over the mesa steadily, Randi glanced down at her radar. It was difficult to tell what was happening, at times, and who was alive. The high ground gave her a good vantage point, but as 'Mechs ducked in and out of the rocks around her, they would disappear only to turn up somewhere else, unexpectedly. The _Whitworth_ was particularly good at that, and had manged to evade her, several times.

Finally, she spotted it, and let loose a flurry of SRMs. The missiles peppered its side and the environment around it, pitting the rocks with shrapnel. As it retaliated with its medium lasers, Hank's voice came over the comm.

"Black Wolf! I've got visual on two _Scorp_ tanks, bearing 0-2-2, over" she reported.

Randi grit her teeth, and let out a hissing sigh as the _Mad Cat_ shuddered under the enemy fire. It irritated her that the unnoticed tanks had managed to flank them. On one hand, she wasn't sure what two ground-bound _Scorpions_ hoped to accomplish. On the other, she didn't care to find out. It was best to deal with them swiftly, before the crafty Lyrans dealt any further surprises.

"Copy that, Vixen," she replied to her lancemate. "Engage and destroy. Over."

As the _Witworth_ ducked behind cover, the _Clint_ showed itself again and landed an autocannon round in _Nyx's_ torso. The smaller 'Mech leapt over a low ridge and continued running for cover, as she tried to track it. The two pilots seemed less interested in laying decisive blows against her than in keeping her occupied. until heavier support could arrive.

As she followed the Clint, another call came over the radio. "Black Wolf," Fred began, his voice somewhat strained, "I could use some help down here."

Looking to the south, she could see Fred's garishly painted _Dragon_ weaving through the gorges. He had somehow been cut off from the other allied units, and now faced three Lyran 'Mechs on his own. One of the trio was a _Zeus_.

Only one of the enemy 'Mechs was in range of her weapons, and only marginally so. She would have to leave the mesa to assist her partner. Considering the odds he faced, though, it was hardly a choice.

"Vixen, can you handle things here?" she asked. She came to a stop for increased accuracy, and fired both of her PPCs at the Guillotine moving to block Fred.

"Sure, Black Wolf," Hank replied, the radio crackling above the din of battle. "More kills for me."

"Thanks. Over."

The _Guillotine_ twisted violently as the PPC bolts ripped off its right arm, and causing its laser blast to soar harmlessly over Fred's 'Mech. Randi could see the _Guillotine_ back off on jets of plasma, but the _Flashman_ held its ground in front of Fred.

Its twin large lasers bore deep into the _Dragon's_ torso, but the shots didn't stop him. Trapped between the three Lyrans, Fred stayed on course towards the capsule-shaped BattleMech. Desperately, it let out a barrage of medium lasers, most of which glanced off the smaller machine. At the last moment, the _Dragon_ twisted and lowered itself, digging its shoulder into the _Flashman_ as the two met. The full-speed collision actually lifted the 75-tonner into the air for a brief moment before dropping it on its back.

She pushed her OmniMech to its top speed, and took a running leap from the edge of the mesa. The _Guillotine_ turned to face her, but was powerless to attack at this range. Ignoring it, Randi swiftly turned her reticule to the _Zeus's_ back, and let loose both PPCs in quick succession. The first bolt grazed its shoulder, but the second struck the blue 'Mech in its back, crisping away much of the already thin armor. She gave another blast of her jumpjets as the ground rose up in front of her, to ease the landing, then sprinted off towards Fred.

Fortunately, he recovered from the tackle quickly enough to take advantage of his successful gambit. As soon as he had centered himself again, he fired two medium lasers into the crumpled face of the _Flashman_. As Randi approached to support him, she could make out the damage his 'Mech has taken during the battle. The most recent among the scars was a gash that tore from the _Dragon's_ LRM rack, and up its torso in an ugly snarl. This made fighting the _Zeus_ a greater precedent for her. As it turned to face her, it let off a flurry of LRMs. The hasty shot only scored half a dozen glancing blows on her machine, but it followed up with a large laser that cut into one of her arms.

She scowled at the light blue assault 'Mech as she leaned the control sticks forward to counteract the blow. Trotting sideways, she turned her undamaged arm, and stabbed it in the gut with one of her PPCs. The other, she turned on the approaching _Guillotine_.

"Mayhem, how are you holding up?" she asked. His 'Mech showed its wear clearly, but she much more concerned that Fred might have been injured.

"I'm good. A bit roughed up, but better than the _Flashman_ here." Fred fired his autocannon and lasers into the downed 'Mech, ensuring that it would not get up again. "How about you?"

"Just fine," she replied, darting over a ridge as the _Zeus_ tried to land another hit with its missiles. The missiles crashed into the hillside, sending up a cloud of dust in front of her. She put the throttle into reverse and danced back, then turned and jumped onto a short plateau. Clan weaponry gave her a distinct advantage in situations like this. She was just outside the range of its missiles, now, but the _Zeus_ was well within her reach. As long as the Lyran pilot continued to pursue her, she could hang back and shear away its armor.

Instead of pursuing her, it fell back out of her range. Whether or not any Gacrux MechWarriors had fought against the Invasion, information on Clan machines and weaponry was well disseminated within the Lyran Alliance. The _Zeus_ pilot was not about to let Randi pick him off so easily, and didn't seem inclined to fight her head-on.

As the _Zeus_ backed away, its _Guillotine_ lancemate rejoined it. The two watched each other's backs as they worked their way to a rocky cover from Randi. The two 'Mechs sat in cover for a moment before the _Guillotine_ rocketed out from it. The 70-ton 'Mech was still out of her range, and continued to stay out of her range as it made a break for the Tiburónes_'_ line.

She pushed jumped down to level ground, and pushed her 'Mech to its full speed. It wasn't long before she had closed enough distance to hit it again, and fired with both of her PPCs. Its large laser sloughed armor from her 'Mech's torso and upper leg, leaving a trail of dripping metal. The _Zeus_ added its own large laser and missiles to the barrage, trying to push her back. Randi hit her jumpjets to avoid the blows, but her 'Mech still shook a little as the ordnance nicked its hull.

"Stay after the _Guillotine_," Fred ordered. "We have to force it back. The other Lyrans have broke past the _Tiburónes_." He fired his autocannon at the Zeus, striking one of the protective plates by its cockpit. "Carbón and I can finish the _Zeus_." To emphasize the message, he struck out at the _Zeus_ again. This time, his shot was equaled by a PPC bolt from Carbón, as her _Vindicator_ appeared in the distance.

"Roger that."

Seeing that they had the _Zeus_ in a crossfire, Randi turned and ran headlong after the _Guillotine_. With a maximum speed of just sixty-five kilometers per hour, and far weaker weapons, it was hardly a match for her OmniMech. The pilot knew this, and began to change its course once it became clear that the _Mad Cat_ was in hot pursuit. The Lyran 'Mech fired its jumpjets, leaping up to a cliff to escape, and fired its laser after her again.

She struck back with her PPCs. One shot hit it in the shoulder as it jumped; the next stream of particles ripped at the _Guillotine's_ foot and the ledge where it stood. In panic, the pilot fired its jump jets again as it lost its footing. This only forced the 'Mech into the cliff face, smashing the already weakened armor. Once it settled from the crash, it jumped into cover among the rocks. It was too far now to receive help from any friendly units, and its options were becoming more and more limited.

As Randi approached it, she saw the 70-tonner take flight on its jump jets again and break into the open. This time, it was heading straight for her. As it closed, it fired its SRMs and torso lasers down on her. The missiles feel short, but the 'Mech kept coming, making no indication of changing its course.

She gave a snort of annoyance as the _Guillotine_ ran at her. She didn't plan to stay still long enough for it to ram her, and her 'Mech was far more nimble than the Lyran's. She jumped back, feathering the amount of force from the jumpjets, until she landed on a high cliff. She trotted back a few paces from the edge for safety, and clawed at the _Guillotine_ fiercely with her full weapons payload. With its armor finally exhausted, the light blue 'Mech collapsed under her fire and plowed into the ground. The waning heat signature of the fusion engine signaled its death.

"Black Wolf, here," she called to her partner. "Target destroyed."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Before he even knew what he was doing, Nikolai felt the gun kick as he fired again—then a third, and fourth time. When he finally eased up on the trigger, there was blood. Lifeless, the man slouched forward and hung over the broken glass of the cockpit.

He didn't know what he was doing. He simple he froze in place, the world around him fading, and stared at the body that lay in front of him. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, dazed. Everything just seemed to... stop. He had never seen someone die before, much less killed anyone like this. Maybe he had killed someone before—there was that tank, after all—but not like this. It had been nothing like this.

The voice of one of the other mercenaries finally brought Nikolai out of his stupor. As he came back to reality, he made some startling observations. His face was wet with tears, his body was soaked with sweat, his arms bled and stung, and the dead man's blood was all over his instrument panel. He also realized that he was straining to breathe, and grabbed the oxygen mask near the first aid kit. He didn't have time to attend to his wounds, though. The _Thunderbolt_ had returned, chasing the _Centurion_, and both were headed in his direction.

Frantically, he unhooked his harness and scrambled to the front of the cockpit, wiping the blood off of the displays. He couldn't run around with a corpse hanging out of his 'Mech and, for lack of a better plan, decided to simply undo the latch that held the soldier to the grapple cable. The body slipped over the edge of the cockpit frame to the ground. As Nikolai clambered back to his seat, he kept a careful eye on the activity outside.

The _Centurion_ was a slow 'Mech for its size, and had no hope of outrunning the larger _Thunderbolt_. It fired its autocannon at its pursuer, hoping to shake the heavy. Shards of armor flaked from the Lyran 'Mech, but it didn't slow or stop. Instead, it responded with its own fire, blistering away the last of the _Centurion's_ rear armor with its arm mounted large laser A pair of SRMs soared in to finish off the medium 'Mech. Knowing that his 'Mech would not survive, the pilot ejected from his battered machine.

"Hooker!" one of the others—probably Meat Pie—shouted over the comm in concern.

Just as the pilot cleared the BattleMech, the _Centurion_ erupted in fire. Multiple ammo explosions split the 'Mech in half, sending a spray of shrapnel over the field. Having finished its prey, the _Thunderbolt_ turned to face Nikolai.

He was startled by the explosion, but adrenaline fueled a quick response. Ignoring the glass in his arms, he quickly threw his harness on again, trying to close the clasp with shaking hands. He glanced up, and through the shattered canopy, he could see the lumbering _Thunderbolt_ close on him. Its armor was in shambles from its fight with the _Centurion_ and _Trebuchet_, but it was no less of a threat.

Forgetting his harness, he grabbed the control stick and twisted his 'Mech around, quickly firing one of the large lasers. The beam cut straight into its right shoulder, revealing its myomer muscles. The _Thunderbolt_ fired its own large laser, but the shot fell short, scarring the ground. The miss did not discourage it, however, and a stream of LRMs followed the laser.

A shrill klaxon sounded in the cockpit, warning of a missile lock. Fearing a hit to his damaged cockpit, Nikolai leapt towards an outcropping of rocks, and turned the _Shadow Cat's_ torso away from the missiles. A blast of scorching air and dirt washed over the canopy as the some of warheads hit the rocks, and a few more ravaged the armor on his right side. As soon as the impact subsided, he turned again to face his pursuer.

Taking a deep breath, he brought the targeting reticule down over the heavy 'Mech's center torso. He wanted to hit its right side where the least armor remained, but Fred had cautioned him that it was best to always aim for the center. Doing so would increase his chances of hitting _something_, even if he missed his intended target. He could no longer afford to miss, if he was to have any chance of survival. Easing off the throttle, he exhaled and fired.

Just as he fired, the _Thunderbolt_ started to turn, trying to present a smaller profile. Nikolai grit his teeth and moved to fire again, this time just to distract the other pilot. Just as he pulled back on the trigger, the first beam speared into the Lyran 'Mech. It slipped past the center torso, and instead seared through the side of the cockpit, leaving a glowing hole in the canopy. Immediately, its arms dropped to its side and the machine fell forward, inanimate.

He didn't cheer at his first 'Mech kill, though. There wasn't time, and in any case, he found that he couldn't muster any feeling of satisfaction. This was the second time in one night, now, that he had killed someone. He did find a little relief in finally being clear of any immediate danger, and ran to join the _Trebuchet_.

* * *

A series of heavy autocannon shells ripped into Jordão's _Black Knight,_ as the _Marauder_ II rose from cover. In answer to Islera's challenge, it now charged at her, along with the _Grasshopper_ and _Guillotine_. As the three machines closed on her position, she held her ground and opened up with every weapon she had. The first PPC smashed into the torso of the 100-ton machine, melting a layer of armor clean off of it. Her second PPC bore deep into the _Grasshopper's_ leg, and steam revealed that she had hit the myomers and coolant lines. The 'Mech stumbled a little, but its pilot kept it upright and running at a steady pace.

As she set up her third shot on the _Guillotine_, it vaulted itself into the air, peppering her with SRMs. Pulling back on the stick, she fired in return. Her medium lasers missed, but her autocannon scored a direct hit on the heavy's center torso. That wasn't enough to stop it, though, as it landed behind her and jumped again. The other two soon followed, making their way up the side of the Hartsburg mesa.

"What? Cowards!" she shouted at them, turning her 'Mech around to chase after them. Without jumpjets, however, running up the switchbacks would take too long. "Martillo," she called over the radio, "_they're heading your way. Get the carriers to fall back._"

"I'm on it."

The _Tiburónes'_ tanks began to retreat, albeit slowly. Even on level ground they were not swift, but the _Catapult_ moved to cover them. It paced back and forth, waiting for the invaders to show themselves. It couldn't pitch its torso far enough to peer down at the steep cliff face, though. That restricted Antonio to waiting until they were on the mesa to attack.

"_Islera, this is Duende,_" the commander of the _Goblin_ reported suddenly. "_We just picked up a set of signals moving in from the north! They're coming up the other road. Over._"

The _Tiburón_ commander exhaled sharply. "_Hold your position, Duende. Sheila and Lopez are moving in your direction. I'll have them assist you. Over._"

"Islera! Contact with new hostiles, bearing 0-3-3," Raynes cried suddenly. "We're moving to engage."

"Get back here, Storm!" she barked. "You have to hold yo—"

At that moment a burst of startled, static-ridden voices filled the comm.

"_Incoming! We're bailing out!_"

"Oh, my god! They got the _Goblin!_"

"Duende!_ Goddammit, Ortega! Where are you?_"

"I've got track on them!"

"Take the shot! Fire!"

"_We—bai—cover in—! Will regroup—_"

"_Lyran infantry! Light 'em up! Defend _Piloto!"

Antonio's voice came in above the clamor. "_Storm and her lancemate just took off. I've ordered them back, but they won't respond. I'll hold these guys off as best I can._"

Still racing towards the road, Islera looked up to see the _Guillotine_ and _Grasshopper_ bearing down on her XO. Blinking the sweat away from her eyes, she jerked her _Marauder's_ crosshairs to the right as the _Grasshopper_ leaped, and stabbed it with both of her PPCs. As the 'Mech's heat spiked, a warning sounded in the cockpit and the 75-ton beast began to slow. She shivered against the sickening feeling of hot, dry air on her skin and the icy-cold coolant vest snug against her chest. She kept the throttle at full, pushing the 'Mech as it labored up the increasingly steep slope.

The _Grasshopper_ ignored her as it and the _Guillotine_ made their way over the ridge to the LRM carriers. She could see that both 'Mechs were hit by a barrage of LRMs. The missiles were fired too close to arm themselves, but still had enough force to knock over the _Grasshopper_. The _Guillotine_ weathered the blast and retaliated with a quartet of medium lasers.

Islera had to hurry. She knew Antonio could hold his own against the two 'Mechs, but the LRM carriers wouldn't stand a chance. As she jogged a few meters further up the road, she could see the rest of the battlefield. There was a _Thunderbolt_ in the distance, slouched forward and lifeless. Her eyes quickly scanned over the wrecks that lay out on the field. The allied units had the advantage, numerically. That would count for precious little, though, if they could not stop the Lyran charge.

Her _Marauder_ turned again, its feet slipping on the asphault road, but not losing balance. As she quickly climbed up the rammed earth slope, she scanned over the ridge for her targets. The _Grasshopper_ and _Guillotine_ disappeared as they moved in, but the _Marauder_ II had yet to make it to the top of the mesa. If she had any say in the matter, it never would.

Taking advantage of the assault 'Mech's focus on the ridgeline defenders, she ripped into it with her AC/5 and both medium lasers. The autocannon and both beams raked across the rear armor of the hulking machine, leaving an ugly trail of scorches and pockmarks. As she let up on the trigger, one of her lasers sliced into the base of the MAD II's right wing. A chunk of metal slid free as the assault 'Mech's armor bubbled and steamed. It quaked a little, but the pilot seemed to ignore her attack.

Her 'Mech's movements were becoming increasingly slow and labored. She had to make a decision between speed for her own defense, and firepower to defend her allies. It wasn't a difficult choice.

Islera fired both of her PPCs, ripping into the side and back armor of the Lyran machine. Nearly two tons of armor charred and flaked away from the _Marauder_ II's hull, leaving deep, ugly gashes and upsetting its balance. The abused metal of the damaged "wing" finally gave out under the barrage of ions, and tore away from the chassis with a groaning screech.

No longer able to ignore her attacks, the 100-tonner turned to face her. Firing its own PPCs and autocannon. Islera's armor readouts dropped rapidly under the abuse, and her 'Mech stuttered in its movements. The _Marauder_ II fired again with its autocannon and medium lasers. She strained against the onslaught, but the force of the blasts was too much for the 'Mech, and tipped it onto its back. Never one to give up, she returned fire with her PPCs, stripping another ton of armor from the bigger machine.

As she struggled back onto her feet, she spotted Antonio's _Catapult_ approaching the Lyran assault from behind, and grinned. A smirking smiley face next to the text, "Have a Nice Day," still stood out brightly on his missile launchers. Two salvos of warheads rained down on the monster before her, twisting it violently around and exposing its damaged flank to her. She fired her PPCs again, and the paired bolts of energy ripped the 'Mech's left arm off completely.

Islera glanced down at her HUD quickly. Her armor was a mess, but tearing off the MAD II's arm had leveled the playing field somewhat.

"_Thanks,_ Martillo," she told her XO. "_Go take care of the other two—and tell Storm to get her insubordinate ass back here!_"

"Jaja,_ will do,_" he replied, leaping away from the edge of the mesa on his jumpjets.

The Lyran assault twisted to the side as the _Catapult_ disappeared, then swung its torso back around to face Islera. An autocannon shot ripped across the armor of the 'Mech's sloping torso, shaking the cockpit like a giant hammer had struck it.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with, mercenary scum," a man—no doubt Hauptmann Nowak—growled in heavy-accented English over the comm.

"Funny. I was about to say the same to you."

She narrowed her eyes as she watched the _Marauder_ II carefully. As it lined up its remaining arm, she pounded a fist on the coolant release. Instantly, her BattleMech's heat dropped and a cloud of noxious green vapor steamed off its hull. With its heat levels under control again, the 75-tonner bolted up the slope. An azure beam nipped at her heels, but the sudden burst of speed was enough to spare her from the PPC.

She slammed back on the throttle and turned the control stick swiftly, as she leaned it hard to the right. Before the the massive blue machine could turn its bulk to face her, Islera had settled her crosshairs over the gaping hole where its shoulder had once been. Pulling back on the trigger, all five of her weapons lanced out at the bigger _Marauder_. Even as another autocannon shell punched into her armor, one of her PPCs found its mark. The blue ions cleaved into the open wound in the Lyran 'Mech's side, spilling out smoke.

The _Marauder_ II faltered for just a moment, then suddenly heaved to the right, as white-hot slag and light gushed out of the hole in its torso. A deep rumble shook the 'Mech again, followed by another burst of molten armor from another place on its torso. The next instant seemed to pass slowly, as piece by piece, the whole torso of the assault 'Mech simply seemed to disintegrate. A wave of brilliant fire engulfed it as the damaged cascaded, setting off its ammunition bins. Then the engine failed, looking like a star was hatching from it as hot gas and sheer force split the 'Mech apart.

There was no sign of the pilot.


	21. Chapter 21

_This story has been on hiatus for awhile, which wasn't planned. Work and life get in the way, and soon I realize it's been months since I updated. Still, I like to write this story and I know some people like to read it, (thanks, Rogue!) so it will definitely be completed._

_Hellcat's been incredibly good about helping me get back into the swing of things, so he deserves a round of applause. No promises on a new update schedule, but here's hoping it'll be more timely._

* * *

Chapter 21

Normally, odds of four-against-one would deter a pilot but Hank was a hunter and she had the high ground. Since the _Griffin_ handled similarly to her _Quickdraw_, leaping from ledge to ledge as she stalked her prey was easy. As she climbed higher up on a mesa, she spotted the two Lyran tanks below.

She didn't hold fast to any grudges against the Lyran realm. Ideology, wars, planets traded back and forth—none of that mattered to her. All she wanted her pound of flesh, and she was going to have it.

A faintly mean smirk crossed her lips as she watched the _Scorpions_ rolling through the dust below. The two medium 'Mechs had gone into hiding a few minutes ago, probably scared off by the brash _Mad Cat_ that harassed them at every turn. They didn't seem to realize that Randi had departed. Hank needed some way to lure those 'Mechs out into the open, and wrecking their compatriot tanks was probably a good start. Bursting out from cover as she vaulted a narrow gap in the mesa, she pitched her _Griffin's_ guns down and laid into an exposed _Scorpion_.

The armor on the tank's right flank melted off and pooled on the desert ground, exposing the caterpillar tracks. Immediately, both _Scorpions_ accelerated in an attempt to flee their attacker. Hank wasn't about to let that happen, though. Soon after her PPC shot, she let fly her LRMs, finishing off the first tank's armor and tracks, and watched as its crew abandoned it.

"Yeah, you better run," she muttered aloud. "Jackass zealots."

The _Scorpion_ was a good clip slower than her _Griffin—_unusual for a light tank—and not half as well armed. She loped along the mesa parallel to the still-operable one, and fired another burst of LRMs. She would have to wait some time before using her PPC again, or risk over-taxing her heat sinks. As much as she liked the weapon's reach, she couldn't help but pine for her _Quickdraw's_ heat-efficient systems.

She dearly hoped that the Techs could do something about her poor BattleMech. As much as she wanted to believe that everything would be fixed once they had parts, she also wondered if Ned had unintentionally exaggerated the feasibility of repairs.

The machine she used now was a solid enough 'Mech—agile, moderately quick, decently armed. With some double heat sinks, it could be a good sniper. Still, it wasn't hers. She didn't feel any connection to the 'Mech, or any sense of immersion when she piloted it. It scared her a little to think of losing that feeling forever.

Now wasn't the time to think about that. Her missile warning system blared as the _Whitworth_ came out of hiding and fired on her. Her heat sinks weren't ready, but self-defense was more important. She brought her targeting reticule over the other 'Mech and fired her PPC hastily. The temperature in her cockpit spiked, causing more sweat to bead on her skin. The discomfort was not for nothing, as the shot pounded armor off the _Whitworth's_ arm and scared it back into hiding. As she turned back to the tank, another more distant target appeared: a light blue APC speeding toward Hartsburg.

'_Dangit, that's the last thing we need..._'

She bit her lip gently and backed up, then broke into a run. As the _Griffin's_ foot pressed into the frail earth at the cliff's edge, she hit her jumpjets. The ground crumpled, but by that time, she was already halfway to the edge of the Hartsburg mesa. She watched her controls carefully, trying to judge depth through the cockpit, obstacles from the viewscreen, and height from the altimeter. As she neared the edge, she realized she was going to fall just short of her target. Hank worked the pedals quickly, making the 'Mech kick in midair, until one of its feet caught the edge of the cliff. She grinned in relief, and gave the jumpjets another burst to push herself up onto solid ground.

Ahead, she could see the two _Archers_ milling about chaotically as they shot at something near their feet. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Perhaps her tone was a bit sharp, but the question was one of genuine surprise.

"Clear the comm!" an unfamiliar man—probably the second _Archer_ pilot—commanded. "Bloody merc..."

Rather than snap back, Hank cooled her voice. "Hey, that's no way to talk to a friend," she said. "Now, what's going on, and how can I help?"

"There's infantry everywhere! We killed the first APC, but we've lost the other units. We don't know how many damn Sweiners are out there." This time it was Raynes who spoke.

Hank noted two masses of charred, flame-licked metal lying in the street as she approached. Obviously, things had gotten ugly, but APCs and infantry seemed like a poor reason to turn away from the main engagement. However, telling them so would probably do more harm than good. "Let me take care of the Elsies here. You two can do the most good back at the front."

"And let them flank the city?"

She frowned a little. They obviously weren't interested in reason, right now. "Storm, I know you don't want anyone in this city to get hurt, and neither do I. I'm a Leaguer, too," she said, entreating the lieutenant's nationalism. It was a rather ironic move, but it was the best she could hope for, now. "There's a group of assault 'Mechs making a break for the main road. The _Tiburónes_ have infantry of their own to deal with the Elsie troops, but they can't hold back the BattleMechs without you." Hank adjusted her grip on the control sticks and held her ground. _'Raynes ain't gonna buy a word of this...'_

The two League 'Mechs seemed to regard her for a moment, as if judging whether she was friend or foe. "Alright," Lt. Raynes said, finally. "We'll leave you to it."

"But—" her lancemate protested.

"Return to the line, Two," Raynes said. "That's an order."

Hank blinked in surprise as the two _Archers_ left. Knowing when to back off and leave others to do their jobs was one of the first hard lessons of command. Perhaps the militia MechWarrior was not quite as green as she seemed.

Whatever infantry the Lyrans had sent up to the mesa had largely disappeared. She thought she saw a spat of muzzle flashes down one of the streets, but whatever had caused it vanished quickly. With the Lyran APC dispatched, she decided to find the pesky 'Mechs, and finish them off. As she came back to the edge of the mesa, her position was raked by the _Whitworth's_ missiles. Before she could return fire, however, the _Whitworth_ had ducked into cover. She gave a huff of annoyance, frustrated with that 'Mech and its game of hide and seek.

She pulled back from the ledge and stalked over towards the road that led into the city. The way down was indeed too steep and narrow for a 'Mech to traverse. However, it would make a decent foothold to spring from, if a pilot had enough experience with jumpjets. Either, the Lyrans weren't big on fancy jumpjet use or they hadn't yet figured this out. She hoped that at least one case would hold, and she wouldn't find the two medium 'Mechs galloping through the streets of Hartsburg.

Seeing that she could—possibly—return to where she stood now, she decided to follow her quarry to the ground. She fired her jumpjets and hopped over the edge, then let the 'Mech free-fall for about one third of the mesa's height. After that, she alternately fell and feathered her jets, coming to a reasonably smooth landing in an open portion of the desert.

To her surprise, the second _Scorpion_ tank lay only three hundred meters away from her position. It began to fire on her immediately, as it shifted into reverse. Armor plates exploded off the _Griffin's_ chest as the shells struck her. Quickly, she pushed her throttle to get out of the tank's line of fire, while she leveled her PPC and lined up the crosshairs between the tank body and turret. A glance at her heat gauge showed it was still a little high from the jump and run, but she promised herself that if the shot hit she would give the 'Mech a moment to cool down. With that, she pulled the trigger and let loose a light blue bolt of energy that soared into the tank. The shot hit its mark and penetrated the armor, igniting the autocannon rounds in the tank. The ammunition explosions separated the turret from the body in a gruesome fireworks display.

She had no time to admire her handiwork, as volley of ordnance peppered her 'Mech. She hit her jumpjets and leapt away to a nearby outcrop of rocks. "Damn Elsies," she muttered under her breath as she scanned for the evasive 40-tonners amongst the long desert shadows. Hank gave a huff as she watched the heat levels from the corner of her eye, but continued moving carefully, hopping from ridge to ridge.

Eventually, she caught sight of her quarry again. The _Whitworth_ had stopped atop a small mesa, unaware of her presence. She grinned and squeezed the trigger, sending first a PPC then a salvo of missiles into its back. The Lyran 'Mech fell forward under the blows, venting a sickly green smoke from the holes in its armor. Seizing the opportunity, she pounced forward and landed next to the prone 'Mech, ravaging it with another blast from her PPC.

Before she could continue tearing at the _Whitworth,_ the _Clint_ appeared, rising from the lowlands on its jumpjets, and swiped at her with its lasers. As tempting a target as the former was, it wasn't worth getting bloodied over. After all, the _Whitworth_ didn't look as though it would be going anywhere.

The _Clint_ fired again, striking her right arm. She darted across the rocks to evade, trying to shake off the hit. Once she glanced at her indicators, however, she realized the damage was more severe than she thought. She fired her PPC at the _Clint_ and twisted to cover her right arm. The concentrated blast of ions tore into its chest and gutted most of its internal structure. It stumbled a little, and continued running.

Pausing for a moment, she twisted back towards Hartsburg for a quick scan of the area. Everything seemed about the same as it had been before she leapt down from the plateau. She held her position, rocking back and forth gently as she balanced on a loose slab of stone, and considered the situation. She didn't believe that the _Clint_ really intended to flee. This was supposedly a veteran unit, and veterans didn't just cut and run so easily. The _Clint's_ pilot was probably much more concerned about their lancemate than their own 'Mech.

With the advantage of range, all she had to do was keep the lighter 'Mech at arm's length and slowly grind it down. She fired a salvo of missiles and hopped back to where the _Whitworth_ lay, to inspect it. As she neared, the 'Mech struggled to get up again but gyro damage from the fall thwarted its attempts. Unable to stand, the 'Mech gave shove with its arm, rolling onto its back, and fired an alpha strike. Missiles corkscrewed harmlessly into the air, but its trio of medium lasers bored into the _Griffin's_ torso and pauldron-like shoulder. The melted armor seeped down into the shoulder actuator in her right arm, jamming it.

Hank shoved the controls sticks forward against the momentum of her 'Mech as it stumbled back, trying to stay away from the ledge. Steadying herself, she cursed and swung the _Griffin's_ leg hard into the prone 'Mech. Armor crumpled under the force, and little shards sprayed out from its side. The _Whitworth_ convulsed, flailing its arms uselessly, as she viciously kicked it a second time. It tried to raise an arm to defend against the second blow, only to have the limb snapped off by the kick. Finally, the _Whitworth_ finally and Hank could see from her thermal monitors that the pilot had shut down and surrendered.

Not a second later, however, her radar warned of an enemy 'Mech moving up on her six. She turned to fire, but the _Clint_ was approaching too quickly and darted in under her weapon's minimum ranges. It struck out at her with its twin medium lasers, and then a fist. Hank was taken aback by the sudden onslaught and struggled to keep her balance. She grabbed the _Clint_ by its shoulder to steady herself, then kicked its shin as she pushed it away.

As the 40-ton 'Mech stumbled back, the loose rocks of the mesa slid out from under its feet. Unable to get any purchase, it slipped over the edge into the shadows. Just as she turned to leave, a faint glow of jumpjets appeared against the canyon walls.

* * *

By the time Randi reached the base of the mesa, the Lyran 'Mechs were clawing the retreating LRM carriers. At that range, the two carriers were completely defenseless.

Scanning the area quickly, she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. A blue humanoid 'Mech was busy vaulting up the side of the Mesa. She brought her targeting reticule to it swiftly, only to realize that it was the _Tiburón_ _Hatchetman_. As she lowered her guns, the 'Mech turned toward her for a moment. "If you have jumpjets, you better use them now," the pilot called out to her before continuing his jump,"or start flapping your arms."

Spork's humor caught her off guard, but she followed suit and depressed both pedals, lifting her into the air behind him. With well-trained and precise movement, Randi maneuvered her OmniMech up the side of the mesa. For a 75-ton construct, it had a surprising amount of grace. She caught up with Spork, as she reached the top and moved to his side.

Unfortunately, they were too late to help one of the LRM carriers, as flames licked out of holes in its armor. A little further away, the second carrier in full retreat, with Antonio trying to defend it from the two attacking Lyran 'Mechs. His _Catapult_ showed scorch marks on its armor from the battle, but it doggedly held back the attacking heavies.

Spork fired first with his autocannon, stripping the remaining armor off an enemy _Grasshopper's_ back. The Lyran 'Mech twisted sharply around to retaliate, melting off more than half a ton of armor with two medium lasers. Shrugging off the attack, Spork lighted off again on his jets, firing a burst from his autocannon. The _Grasshopper_ pilot dodged the slug and lined up its guns on Randi. The _Mad Cat_ was a much greater threat than Spork's _Hatchetman_.

The _Grasshopper_ opened up on her with all of its remaining weapons. The large laser stitched over her torso, followed closely by a medium. Luckily, the other shots went wide over _Nyx_, allowing her time to recover. Randi shrugged off the hits and quickly squeezed down on the firing triggers to keep her foe off balance. Twin PPC bolts pounded the _Grasshopper's_ right leg, vaporizing the already weakened armor and searing the endo-steel bone. The Lyran machine shook violently from the hit and teetered back, its leg starting to bow under the 'Mech's own weight. While the pilot was distracted, Spork struck again. Leaping forward, he raised his right arm and swung his hatchet. The titanium-sheathed blade cleaved into the enemy 'Mech's torso with enough downward force to finally snap what was left of the battered leg. With a shriek of tearing metal, the _Grasshopper_ landed flat on its back, shaking the ground around it.

With the 70-tonner disabled, everything seemed suddenly quiet. Antonio and the heavy 'Mech he was fighting had both disappeared, and the Archers were not in sight, either. "Vixen, sitrep," Randi requested, taking advantage of the brief respite. She loped ahead, trying to spy another target.

"I'm a little beat up, but I'm still good to fight, Black Wolf. The tanks and _Whitworth_ are down, and I've got the _Clint_ pinned. Over."

"Copy that. Regroup once you have finished it. Over."

"Wilco. Out," Hank replied.

Randi kept moving until her sensors picked up the last Lyran 'Mech. She throttled up, hoping to give it as little time to prepare as she could. Ahead, she spotted it leaping through the air, as it fired a salvo of SRMs and lasers at an unseen target which responded in kind with ER and pulse lasers. The light blue _Guillotine_ landed, shaking the ground, then made another short jump to close in on its opponent.

Sprinting after it, Randi depressed her foot pedals and leapt to follow the _Guillotine._ At the peak of her jump she spotted Antonio's _Catapult_ backing away from the heavier 'Mech. The Lyran laid into the side of his 'Mech with its large laser, then launched a spray of SRMs. Armor sloughed from the _Catapult's_ torso under the sting of the laser, but the shark-toothed machine weathered the damage. Just as he turned to retaliate, the missiles hit their mark, peppering the 'Mech's leg. One of the warheads hammered into _its_ ankle joint, ripping the actuator as it exploded. Unable to save himself from a fall, Antonio's 'Mech crashed into the dirt, and lay prone as the _Guillotine_ closed on it.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Keeping his speed up, Fred tried to out distance the _Zeus._ His _Dragon's_ newer model autocannon outreached all the Lyran machine's weapons except for its LRMs. A series of explosions on his back and legs reminded him of that. "That was his fifth salvo, right," he muttered to himself. "That leaves... three more."

He twisted his 'Mech around and watched as an extended PPC bolt from Carbón struck out at the _Zeus's_ leg, just barely hitting it. He fired a slug at the same spot, further weakening the armor. "If we keep this up, he'll be down in no time," he called over to the _Tibur__ó__n._

Her response was cut off before it started, as a stream of LRMs crashed into her torso and head. Her azure _Vindicator_ stumbled, but stayed upright as she fired another PPC at the _Zeus._ "_Mierda_," she muttered a little groggily, seeing the bolt miss. "Heads up. Thunders in bound." Her 'Mech's chest lit up as she launched a flight of missile. Nearing their target, each missile scattered a hail of mines, sending up little puffs of dust and dirt as they landed before the _Zeus_.

The Gacrux pilot turned the assault 'Mech abruptly to avoid the mines, but it was to slow to avoid them. The explosions sent rubble into the air and tore at the 'Mech's foot, but didn't knock it over. In defense, it fired another salvo of LRMs along with a PPC. The latter shot fell short, but the LRMs struck Carbón with their full force. The resilient medium 'Mech stood fast as plates of armor were blown off by the missile strikes.

"Hang back, Carbón," Fred commanded. She gave a brief mutter of assent, and fired more of her thunder munitions into the field. Retreating steadily, he put his 'Mech into a wide right turn to keep his good armor facing the _Zeus_ and stay out of its weapons' range. The assault 'Mech fired another PPC bolt at Carbón, and missed again, before twisting to face Fred. As the _Zeus_ raised its right arm at him, he prepared his own weapons.

Fred fired first, squeezing off three autocannon rounds in quick succession. His first shot went wide, but his second and third hit along the _Zeus's_ forearm. The damage wasn't enough to disable the LRM launcher, though, and the last salvo of missiles took flight. Fred turned the _Dragon_ sharply in attempts to beat the missiles' tracking. A small handful struck his torso and legs, but the damage was nothing serious. The sudden maneuver disturbed his focus, however.

"Mayhem! _¡Atención!_" Carbón warned him, as the _Zeus_ approached rapidly, but it was too late. The Lyran 'Mech fired both of its main beam weapons, scoring a glancing hit with its PPC, while the large laser struck home on Fred's right arm.

The _Dragon_ twisted from the hits and jostled Fred in the cockpit. The battle computer's Japanese voice tried to bring his attention to something, but he couldn't understand what until he tried firing his autocannon to no affect. The laser had destroyed his ammo feed.

"Hey, big chat burst on the Command channel!"

Fred gave a frustrated snort as he began dumping his ammunition. "Now is not a good time—"

"Islera took out their CO!" the _Tibur__ó__n_ woman interrupted.

"What?"

"Yeah, no sign of eject," she continued, suddenly far more verbose than before. She laid down more mines around the _Zeus_, and gave an oddly stifled chuckle as it stumbled through a patch of them. Small pockets of fire burst around its legs, marring the armor with pockmarks. "Looks like the Elsies' medium lance might be out, too."

"How many of them are left?" he asked, throttling up as the _Zeus_ chased after him. With only his medium lasers left, the _Zeus_ had a significant advantage in firepower.

"Ah, looks like... seventy... maybe seventy five percent losses? We're doing a little better." As the _Dragon_ and _Zeus_ moved closer to her position, she held her ground and leveled her 'Mech's PPC at the assault chassis. The ions bit into the _Zeus's_ armor, causing the pilot to pause just long enough for Fred to duck behind a spire of rock. The moment in cover allowed him to think over the situation.

"Hey, Elsie in the _Zeus_," Fred called over the open channel. "I bet you heard what happened to your commander. So, why don't we make a deal? You surrender, and we take your stuff. Sound fair?"

A barrage of laser fire cut away at the rock that concealed him, sending bits of stone pinging off his 'Mech.

"I take that as a 'no.'"

Another attack decimated that stone cover, forcing Fred to move. As he darted away from the blast, Carbón tried to distract the assault 'Mech. Considering her low speed, it was a bit risky but her jumpjets would help keep her out of the Lyran's reach. A sparkling blue streak passed the _Zeus's_ shoulder, charring the canyon wall behind it, followed by a pelting of Thunder LRMs. A few of the mines hit the 80-ton machine as they fell from the missiles, some ricocheting and some exploding on contact.

It did little more than annoy the pilot, but it was just enough for Fred to get in close. He fired both of his medium lasers, scarring the armor on the _Zeus's_ torso. It returned with its PPC, but Fred's approach placed him well within its minimum range. He raised the _Dragon's_ arm and punched the _Zeus_ with his full weight behind him. The blow crumpled any armor left to protect the machine's large laser. The _Zeus_ pilot reacted with a clumsy kick in the air, leaving an opening for Fred. The _Dragon's_ blocky foot smashed against the Lyran's battered leg, tossing the already unbalanced 'Mech past the point of recovery. The 80-ton machine crashed onto its side, buckling and popping off armor plates.

Fred panted heavily in the warm cockpit and wiped the sweat off his brow. Though the armor readings reported his 'Mech as badly wounded, the desperate maneuver paid off.

"If you're still alive in there," he started with a pant, "I'd greatly suggest... that you surrender." He leveled his arm-mounted laser at the cockpit of the _Zeus,_ emphasizing the point.

Randi squeezed back on the trigger, letting loose an alpha strike on the enemy _Guillotine_ in a quick bid to draw its fire. Although her PPCs went wide, the 70-tonner shuddered heavily as her short-range weapons hammered into it. She held her ground as it turned to face her slowly, and readied her weapons again.

_'That's right,'_ she mused. _'Pay attention to the big, bad Clan 'Mech.'_

The light blue 'Mech took a single step towards her and knelt. Confused, she checked her sensors and found that its fusion engine was powering down. She quickly tapped the comm, switching to the _Tiburón_ frequency, but kept one finger on the trigger. "Martillo, are you hurt?" she asked the man, quickly.

"Negative. I'm fine, and my unit is coming to assist, over."

Before she could ask any further questions, a familiar voice called to her over the comm. "Black Wolf," Fred began, "they surrendered. It's over."

She felt a strange sense of disbelief conflated with satisfaction at hearing the news. Mostly, though, she felt relief. Switching back to her own lance's channel, she replied to Fred's announcement. "Copy, Mayhem. Orders?"

"Assist the _Tiburónes_ in rounding up the Lyrans. And make sure they don't try anything."

"Wilco," she asserted. Then more gently, she asked, "How are you faring?"

"Beat up, but pretty good. You?"

"Just fine. Have you heard from Kitten and Vixen, yet?"

"Kit's helping the _Tiburónes_ search for one of their pilots. Vixen's keeping an eye on some Lyran MechWarriors. Both are operational and are awaiting relief from the _Tiburónes_. Once we clean up here, we'll head back to their base camp."

Defeated and cornered, the Lyrans put up little resistance. Some of their infantry had gone to ground in the city, but the militia seemed confident that they would not be able to hide for long. Of the MechWarriors, only the _Marauder_ _II_, _Orion_, and _Thunderbolt_ pilots were not found. The captured Lyrans had plenty to say to Islera about the demise of their commander and comrades.

After things had settled, Randi made her way back to the camp with her lancemates for repairs. The _Tiburónes'_ operational 'Mechs accompanied them, while the tanks and Lt. Raynes remained behind. It was almost noon, now, and the harsh, midday sun made all of those returning thankful to be out of their cockpits. Heatwaves boiled up from the ground, waving and dancing, so that the whole landscape looked like an Impressionist painting. The air-conditioning at the base was another thing for which they were grateful.

With all the activity around the camp, she almost didn't notice the others arrive. The first to show up was Nikolai, accompanied by the _Tiburónes'_ _Trebuchet._ Shortly thereafter Hank and Fred appeared in the distance, each of their 'Mechs looking worse than the last. Hank's borrowed _Griffin_ had barely any torso armor left, and the right shoulder looked badly damaged. The _Dragon_ appeared almost zombie-like as it cantered up to the repair racks, its myomers and internal guts visible where the armor plates were stripped away. The scar across the LRM rack had widened since she last saw it, and the autocannon had taken a beating. In some places, light shined through what was left of the torso armor.

One after the other, they settled their battered machines for repair. _Nyx_ was in relatively good condition, and the _Shadow_ _Cat_ had fairly little damage, as well. What damage it had taken, though, was unusual. As Nikolai lined up the 45-tonner beside her, she saw that his cockpit was shattered open with a tether of some sort hanging out of it, and the 'Mech's side showed the scuffs, scrapes, and dents of a fall.

As the young pilot disembarked, she saw that he seemed to have taken some battle damage, as well. Loosely applied bandages covered much of his exposed skin, and he cradled one of his arms awkwardly. Behind the oxygen mask, his face appeared to be covered in a mix of sweat and tears.

"What happened?" Randi asked as she met him on the catwalk, her voice muffled funnily by her oxygen mask.

He only stared at her for a moment, seeming to fumble for words. "I don't want to talk about it..." he muttered, finally.

She took his wrist and held his arm up to examine the bandages. "You need medical attention for these cuts. Do you have any other injuries?"

He pulled his arm back and shied away from her, shaking his head. Randi looked around for a call box, before finally shouting at a near by tech for a medic. Nikolai, meanwhile, just leaned against the railing, avoiding her eyes, and stared down at the floor of the catwalk.

"Somethin' wrong, sugar?" Hank asked, as she trotted up to them lancemates.

"I am alright, but Nikolai is—"

"I'm fine. It's just some cuts," he muttered. Nikolai cringed as the medic approached. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Fred told him, following the medic. "Now, let this lady do her job, and patch you up. Everyone else, let's get inside. This thin air isn't good after a long battle."

As they left, Randi glanced back over her shoulder. The teenager sat down on the catwalk tiredly and raked his hands through his stringy, sweat-soaked hair. She was not entirely sure, but she thought she heard him crying.


	23. Chapter 23

Note: _Thanks to everyone who's been patient, and kept up with this story. I appreciate everyone who reads, and all the reviews even more._

* * *

Chapter 23

The hours passed quickly as the day wore on. There was hardly a moment to rest or relax until evening, though no one seemed to mind. The _Tiburónes_ were greatly pleased with their victory, but were hardly in a mood to celebrate even after the day's work ended. The Lyran's attack on Hartsburg had cost their unit lives. While the _Centurion_ pilot survived with some injuries, two of their tank crew had died during the initial assault, and some of their infantry were killed in later fighting to secure the city. No matter how close she may have been to any of the men and women, Islera seemed to take each loss personally.

A few years ago, that would not have made sense to Randi; the Clans were so indifferent to death. Those who died were either a great honor or great shame to their Clan, but never a great loss. Now, she found that she understood Islera's feelings just a little. Though she hadn't particularly shown it, she had been happy to see both of her lancemates alive and well. Fred, of course, was another matter altogether.

She smiled to herself as she spotted him looking over the Dragon. It wasn't "his" 'Mech—it wasn't _Beowulf_—but she had a feeling that it was growing on him. She had expected him to be more excited after the hard-won fight. There were no pancakes or beer, and no wild regaling of the battle in celebration. Instead he only seemed very relieved. Quietly, she sneaked up the catwalk, and looped her arms around his waist in a light hug from behind.

"Hi," she said, her voice a little muted by her oxygen mask.

He jumped a little, but smiled when he turned to face her. "Hello, there," he chuckled, returning the hug. "I'm surprised you're not working on _Nyx_."

"There is not much to do. I took little damage, and the Techs here have done a fine job with the field repairs."

Fred set his tools down and wiped his hands with a rag. "The _Dragon's_ LBX is all but destroyed, and the _Tiburónes_ only have parts for a standard AC/5. The rest of it looks doable, though. Same with the '_Franken Cat'_. I'm not sure what we should do with the _Griffin_."

Randi looked down the line of BattleMechs to their pair of medium machines. The captured _Griffin_ still looked a bit in shambles, but the S_hadow Cat's_ cockpit was pristine. Of course, that was a relatively simple repair. Ferroglass was easy to come by, and switching out flat panes of it did not take long. "What do you suppose happened?" she asked, motioning obliquely at the Clan 'Mech.

"Anti-'Mech infantry." He sighed, looking thoughtful. "When I was helping the Techs install the new pane, I noticed bullet holes and casings in the back of the cockpit. Nikolai was lucky."

Randi bit her lip lightly, in thought. Even after some years, the memories of her own brushes with infantry were clear. MechWarriors were always called gods of the battlefield, but nothing made one feel so mortal as the thought of being gunned down in the cockpit. She could hardly blame a green pilot for being shaken, and felt a little guilty for being so indifferent to him, earlier. Hank, on the other hand, had kept her nerves but perhaps not her temper.

"It seems that both of our lancemates are reluctant to talk about the battle. I was with Hank until she went up to the mesa. Once she chased after the Lyrans' medium 'Mechs, no one saw again her for some time." Randi leaned against the railing and rubbed her arms as the evening chill began to set in. "She was very calm during the briefing, but I know she practically bludgeoned both of those 'Mechs to death."

"She must've been mad about something." He leaned back next to her. "Or maybe that's just her style. She did push a _Javelin_ off a warehouse back at the raid on Bowie."

Randi nodded, conceding the point. "I suppose I am not one to criticize physical combat, anyway," she said hesitantly, recalling some of her own drastic maneuvers. After a moment, she wrapped her arm around Fred's and pulled him close. The lance would need to get an early start on the return to Bowie Industries, tomorrow, and having a little time to themselves would be a welcome change."You're cold. Shall I warm you up?" she asked with a smirk.

"Nah, it's actually quite nice out," he grinned playfully.

"Wha—?" She furrowed her brow. "That's not—"

He chuckled and embraced her lovingly. "Let's get inside."

* * *

"Aw, you gotta be kiddin' me..." Harrison grumbled, as the still-battered 'Mechs trotted into the Bowie Industries hangar in single file. Field repairs were little more than a bandage, and there would be plenty of work left for him and his assistant. He shook his head and thumped a fist on the ferroglass of the _Dragon's_ cockpit as Fred brought it to a stop. As it cracked open, he grabbed hold of the hatch and leaned in, frowning at the pilot. "Looks like the Gacrux boys really worked you over."

"Oh, it's not that bad. We only need to get _one_ new weapon system this time." Fred chuckled as he freed himself from the leads and climbed out of the cockpit. "Besides, I have to keep you guys busy or else you might get bored. Anyway, we don't have to worry about the FTM, anymore."

"So we heard," Ned chimed in. He returned Fred's quizzical look with an awkward shrug. "Well, sort of. The press said the'militia-led coalition' defeated them, but..."

"I guess I'll let that slide. We're still being paid, after all." Fred pulled his gear out of the _Dragon_ and clambered onto the catwalk. "Check on the others, would ya? I'll be back with more info on what needs to be done."

Ned turned to the senior tech and grinned. "Dibs on Hank—er, I mean, her 'Mech," he said quickly, snatching up his tool bag as he trotted off towards the _Griffin_. After field repairs, the medium 'Mech was looking a little better than it had the previous day, though that was relative. The damaged right arm was secure for the moment, but would need heavy work before it was combat-ready.

Hank took off her neurohelmet as she popped open the cockpit and sighed, sinking back in the command couch. "This ain't a bad ride," she admitted, unbuckling her harness, as Ned approached. "I can't say I'll miss it too much, either. So, how's my _Quickdraw_? Fix 'the hell out of it,' yet?'" she asked him.

The asTech looked back across the hangar at the 60-tonner and nodded. "Um, mostly. The leg will need another day or so. But I've thought up some neat ways to modify it for you," he said with excitement.

"Modify it?" she repeated flatly, frowning a little as she hopped down to the catwalk.

Ned stepped back. "Well, to improve it. Change some of its weapon systems."

"Whoa, hold on." Hank crossed her arms and frowned in dismay. "I don't remember any talk about changin' it."

"Um, right. It was just a thought." He bowed his head apologetically. "I won't do it again."

"You mean you _already_ changed somethin'?" she gasped.

"N-no," he replied, starting to cringe nervously. "I meant I won't think of it again."

Hank's irritation subsided into confusion. "Jeez, take it easy... You act like I'm gonna bite you," she said, putting her hands up disarmingly. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so snippish."

"Is there a problem?" Randi asked, as she approached the two. She put a hand on the technician's shoulder. "Ned?"

He jumped at her touch and began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere with anything. I'll be off to check on the other 'Mechs, now." He clutched his tool bag and darted off toward the _Shadow Cat_.

"That, ah, could've gone better," Hank sighed. "I know I was kinda miffed, but... I didn't mean to sound so upset.."

"Hmm..." Randi muttered, tilting her head slightly. Most Techs she had seen would rather drink coolant than kowtow to MechWarriors. Then again, InnerSphere MechWarriors did not have a reputation for assaulting Technicians who displeased them. _'But _Clanners_ do.'_ She shook her head, watching as Ned busied himself with inspecting the medium OmniMech. "I don't think that was your fault. For now, maybe you should talk to Harrison about your 'Mech, instead."

"I really don't want to," Hank replied with a sigh. she crossed her arms and leaned back against the _Griffin_. "He'll probably say it needs to be modified, too."

"Why is that a problem? It is no longer a stock chassis, anyway. Some additional modifications may be a great advantage on the field."

"That's different. All the mods it's got... Those are changes my dad and I made. I just don't want to turn it into a different 'Mech."

"Why?"

"Because..." Hank stammered, "because I just _don't_." She frowned and sighed again, a little more resigned this time. "I'm not sure you'd get it."

"More than you might think," she said, looking down at her necklace as she held the pendant in her hand. "It helps you remember someone you cared for. It is important to you."

Silence followed for some time. Hank ran her fingers through the curls that framed her face, while Randi just leaned against the railing next to her. Finally, the former gave a decisive nod and pushed herself away from the railing, back onto her feet.

"It won't do any harm just to hear what the Techs suggest," she conceded.

Randi nodded and smiled. "Fred did mention earlier that he wanted to strip the _Griffin_ for parts, and that PPC is in very good shape."

Hank looked over at her own 'Mech. Her expression was thoughtful at first, but slowly warmed into a somewhat mischievous smile. "Did he, now?"

* * *

Fred hummed softly to himself as he sorted through his file folders, trying to create some semblance of order in his "office." The small room Ms. Brunner allotted the Vigilante Guard had rarely been used during their stay at the factory, and Fred was still trying to get comfortable in it. Uninterested in alphabetizing things at the moment, he simply stuffed the folders into a drawer before leaning back in his desk chair. A soft knock interrupted further considerations about the space.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Nikolai, sir," came the meek reply.

Fred got up and opened the door with a chuckle. "Ah, so it is," he said, grabbing a folding chair for his guest from a stack in the corner. "Come on in."

Nikolai entered, but did not take a seat. He stood by the door, looking as though he might turn around and leave. "I... don't think I can do this," he finally said.

"Do what?" Fred asked, taking a seat on the edge of his desk.

"Be a MechWarrior." he replied, looking down at the floor.

Fred gave him a bemused look and shrugged. "Come on, you're not that bad. I'd have fired you, if you were," he said with a chuckle. "I know Randi's been hard on you, but you're doing...eh, decently. For a rookie."

"That's...that's not why..." The teenager paced in front of Fred, trying to gather his thoughts. "I just don't think I'm cut out for this. I don't think I could fight another battle like that. I've never been so scared in my whole damn life. I was in a 45-ton 'Mech, and I was terrified."

"Now..."

He looked pleadingly at Fred. "I killed a man."

The Outworlder just gave him a deadpan look. "Actually, you killed _several_ people," Fred responded matter-of-factly. "That's a part of this job. Feelin' guilty about the infantryman? You wouldn't be standing here if you _didn't_ kill him. That's... just how it is."

"Maybe it is, but I still don't know if I can do this."

He could see he wasn't getting through to Nikolai. "Okay, then why did you come here? Why leave Capolla? Why forge your documents and join a mercenary unit?"

With a sigh, Nikolai sat down in the chair. "I didn't think I had anywhere else to go," he said somberly.

"Why's that? I mean, signing on with a fighting unit is a pretty rash decision."

"Well, what would you do if the Blakists showed up on _your_ planet?" he groused.

Fred thought for a brief moment. "I guess I see your point." He sighed. "Well, you don't want to be a MechWarrior anymore, what do you want to be?"

He slumped back in his chair and put his hands to his forehead with a sigh. "I don't know. I mean, I can't go back. If the Toaster Troops don't kill me, mom and dad would," he said with a stilted, halfhearted chuckle. "I've never had a job, before, and I'm not really good at anything in particular. I scraped through my last school year with C's."

"So, you wouldn't make a very good secretary, huh?" he mused, looking around the cluttered office. Fred stroked his goatee in thought. "Alright, how about this: we take you off active duty, and you can work with Ned and Harrison as an asTech, for now. If you change your mind, we'll resume your training. How's that?"

Nikolai shrugged. "Can't think of anything better, right now."

"Now, is there anything else?"

"No, sir," he murmured.

Fred sighed. "I— Eh, you shouldn't..." He paused, grimacing, as he tried to articulate his thoughts. "Look, you did the right thing. You survived. Don't blame yourself for that."

Nikolai nodded solemnly.

Fred gathered a few things and escorted him to the door. "Now, come on, we've got a grumpy, old Tech to bother," he said with a light chuckle.

The teenager managed to force a smile. He didn't really look cheery, but he did look slightly less upset. Fred hoped their conversation would help. Losing a MechWarrior would set them back, but Fred was glad that Nikolai would remain with the unit. For the present, they needed more technicians than pilots.


End file.
